


First Name Basis

by BadJuJuJibberish



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Best Friends, Domestic Fluff, Drunken Shenanigans, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Feels, Hilarity Ensues, Missions, Slow Burn, Team Bonding, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-07-29 13:13:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 63
Words: 244,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7685881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadJuJuJibberish/pseuds/BadJuJuJibberish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Junkrat and Roadhog are tired of running, and give legit work a shot. They have no idea what they're getting themselves into. Symmetra needs a change of pace from Vishkar, so she takes on the role of corporate liaison. Finding friends, family, and a boyfriend certainly weren't a part of her equation! Think of it as a rom-com... with bombs! (and a splash of drama, too!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic ever, so apologies in advance. I'm not somebody who typically posts stuff like this publicly, but I let a couple people read it, and they said I really should. Thanks for believing in me, you guys!

Prologue:

     If anyone ever asked Junkrat about his hometown, he’d only ever say one thing. Junkertown was a shithole. It wasn't opinion. It was a well-known fact. When the Omnium blew, the Outback had been utterly decimated. The people that had somehow survived, himself included, ended up building a ramshackle settlement out of the scraps of yesterday, and dared to call it a town. They called themselves Junkers, and the title was quite fitting. They were refuse; a reminder to the world of what could happen when the wrong decisions were made.  
     Junkers were barbaric scavengers, dirty and disheveled. The people living in the coastal cities of Sydney, Brisbane, and Perth (unaffected by the damage of the Omnium) would often turn their TV’s on to news reports of random packs of Junker bands trying to cause havoc on the communities that bordered the Outback. They were, more often than not, chased back by local police, and sometimes militia. Junkers really only wanted simple things: drinking water, food, medical supplies, and machine parts. They had resigned themselves to the fact that no one in the civilized world gave a damn, and so stealing was pretty much a necessity.  
     Life was harsh and cruel, and Junkrat hated every second of it. He was, however, a terrific builder. Scrap came together into something useful, and he eked out a living among the residents of Junkertown with his creations. He was terribly clever, which didn't sit well with most of the people around him. While they scavenged the relics of old hospitals, car parks, and department stores, he went through schools and libraries, collecting as many books as he could. No one went for the books, because they offered little benefit. He had learned to read and write, add and subtract, just before the Omnium blew. The few memories he had before that time were fuzzy, but his teachers had called him “bright” and “academically gifted”. He took it upon himself to utilize his gift, and taught himself from the books he scavenged. As the books became more advanced, he developed a love for chemistry, and eventually, explosives.  
     His scavenging took him somewhere he shouldn't have gone: the remains of the Omnium. He discovered something he shouldn't have, and it changed his life forever. One thing became certain. He had to get out of Junkertown. He had to leave the Outback. Hell, he needed to get as far away from Australia as humanly possible. From there, another thing became certain. He couldn't do it alone.  
     He found Roadhog in the only bar in Junkertown, where he was regarded as a local “peacekeeper”. The title was laughable. The man was gigantic, terrifying, and angry. He was perfect for the job. Roadhog initially turned down Junkrat’s proposition by punching him in the face. He conceded that he needed a different strategy to sway him, and ended up impressing the giant by repairing his derelict motorcycle. A bargain was struck. Roadhog became his official bodyguard, and partner in crime.  
     The first time they set foot in Sydney, they marveled at it in hiding. It was so clean, and shiny. Everything looked new. Roadhog could still remember the days before the Omnium blew, but he still seemed blown away by how much everything had changed in the two decades of survival. Sydney, however, was not safe. Nowhere was. They learned pretty quickly that they were being pursued, and life on the run became necessary.  
     In retrospect, the crime spree they went on was probably not the wisest move for a duo who tried to lay low, but at the end of the day, crime was all they knew. They were damn good at it too. Very quickly, they managed to make a name for themselves as they hit bigger and bigger scores, and eventually landed a massive bounty on their heads. But two years of running was catching up with the pair, and one thing became painfully obvious. They weren't going to last much longer. So when a talking gorilla offered them a chance to stop running, and even earn a little cash on the side, they jumped for it. They had no idea what they were getting themselves into.

Chapter 1

    “You understand that THIS sort of behavior will NOT be tolerated, should this agreement be finalized…” the gorilla grumbled. He stared at the Junkers with a lowered brow, the glowing screen of the computer displaying their very long criminal reports.

    “No worries, mate! We're surprisingly loyal… So long as we’re gettin’ paid!” Junkrat replied. The long and lanky mercenary had a grin on his face. He always had a grin on his face. Even in his mugshot, there was a grin on his face. His partner, the mountain of man known as Roadhog, said nothing. To most, he was a man of few, if any, words. The ape named Winston snorted, and adjusted his glasses.  
    “We will start you with a base commission for every mission you perform in, provided the results are satisfactory. This means minimal collateral damage, and NO civilian casualties. It also means working with our team AS a team.” Winston continued. Junkrat rubbed his angled chin, eyes narrowed. He peeked over to Roadhog. The two seemed to share a wordless conversation. After a moment, the wiry figure leaned forward, bracing his hands (one real, one metal) onto his knees (also one real, one metal).  
     “Yeah, boss. We can handle that!” He agreed. Winston’s eyes narrowed in concentration, mulling his decision over.  
     “Then that settles it. As much as it pains me to do this, I will hire you two on,” he groaned. Winston knew this would spell trouble, but they needed the man-power, and the Junkers were the only new people so far to respond to the Recall. He held out his huge leathery hand.  
     “Gentlemen! Welcome to Overwatch!”.

. . . . .

     The Junkers sat in the back of the meeting room while Winston prattled on to the team. He called it briefing, but Junkrat called it boring. Of course to him, most things were boring if they weren't exploding. Junkrat noticed that no one sat directly next to them, or in front of them. The crew would occasionally peek back at them, with a look of morbid curiosity. They had been there for an hour, and Junkrat couldn't really remember a single word the ape said, save for the talks of a mission happening in a couple weeks.  
     “And before we leave here today, you may have noticed the two new faces in the room. Uh, gentleman, would you please come to the front of the room?” Winston asked, the slightest timbre of hesitation in his voice. Junkrat popped out of his chair, and loped forward with his uneven gate. Roadhog made the seats shake with every thunderous step. The two stared out at the small crowd, and there were looks of apprehension, panic, and dread. Junkrat cracked what he thought was a friendly smile, and wiggled his prosthetic fingers in a little wave.  
     “This is Junkrat, and Roadhog, and they have answered the Recall. Given their… prior experiences, I have found their… skill set to be much needed at this time. I hope you'll all welcome them to our team. Roadhog here has a background in… crowd control. He will be joining Reinhardt, D.Va, and Zarya on the front-line team. Junkrat is a master of demolition, and will be joining Torbörn and Symmetra on our build team.” he explained. There were lots of uneasy glances between comrades. Was his smile not friendly enough? Winston dismissed the group for the day, and motioned the two to follow their new teams. Roadhog seemed hesitant, looking over at his skinny friend. Junkrat gave his friend a pat on his bulbous belly.  
     “S’alight big guy! I'm just gonna go tinker a bit. Promise I'll behave.” He reassured his massive friend. Roadhog trudged off after the trio he had been designated to. Junkrat strolled up to the only two people now remaining in the room. Before him stood a squat little man with a big metal claw for one hand, and a billowy beard. He scowled at Junkrat. Next to him stood a primly dressed Indian woman in short sleeves, her hair pulled up into neat and orderly bun. One of her arms gleamed with white metal casing. She wasn't quite scowling at him, but he did feel like she could liquefy his brain with thought alone. He held up his rusted orange prosthetic, pointing at it.  
     “Alright! Looks like I'll be joining team metal arm!” He said, giving a nervous chuckle. The short man that Winston called Torbörn grumbled deeply.  
     “C’mon, twiggy. We’ll get ya set up at de design table,” he said, begrudgingly. Torbörn trudged away. Symmetra’s piercing gaze lingered on Junkrat, but she too turned, her heels clicking sharply on the metal flooring following Torbörn. Junkrat followed behind her with his signature stomp-click from his peg leg. He indulged in eyeing her curvy frame. At least she was pleasant to look at, for a suit.  
     The work-space consisted of a long table that the two builders had shared together. One half was relatively tidy. There were tools in cases, clearly labeled, but a few still spread out around a project that seemed to be mid process. The other half was so clean, it looked like it had never been used at all. There was a large computer screen, and a couple of technical manuals stacked precisely towards the back, and very little else. Even dust seemed to avoid touching the area. Junkrat knew which half that belonged to. The two set to work making space on the table, albeit begrudgingly. Junkrat found an unused chair in the corner of the room, and wheeled it over to his new station.  
_This is weird!_ He thought. _Is this a real job? Am I actually doing this? I'm workin’ for bloody suits!_ There was nothing on his makeshift desk, and he apprehensively looked around.  
    “So, ‘emmm… What should I be… y’know, doin’?” He blundered. His new teammates stared at him, blankly.  
     “Were ya’ not payin’ attention at de briefin’, twiggy?” Torbörn asked, incredulously. Junkrat shrugged, and the little man bristled, slapping his hand across his face in frustration.  
     "Sym, help de lad out, would ya’, dear?” Torbörn asked, in a very sweet tone. Symmetra shot him a venomous stare, but walked over towards Junkrat’s new station. She pushed his chair over to the side a little so she had better access. Her nose wrinkled in annoyance at the soot now covering her hands. Junkrat acknowledged that he could leave a distinctive trail of soot, ash, and the scent of chemicals in his wake.  
     She said nothing. He was beginning to wonder if she ever spoke, but then he thought of Roadhog, and figured it probably didn't matter. She held out her white-cased arm, and he noticed a blue light in the palm. It started to glow, and she began to weave her arms and hands together. It was almost as if she was dancing to a tune only she could hear, and it was mesmerizing to watch. From the palm, she started pulling sheaths of light, bending it into a large screen. It came at a rest at an angle, and resembled a computer screen and base. She also produced what appeared to be a pencil or stylus. She smacked it down on the table, and it sound incredibly solid for something she literally pulled out of thin air.  
     “The screen functions as blueprint paper. Double tap with the stylus to open a new page. You are the demolitions expert. Design something that explodes. I hear that is what you are good at,” she instructed, her voice downright icy. Junkrat was still leaning back in his chair, his head turning from the new screen, to Symmetra’s arm, and back again.  
     “Sheila, that was bloody brilliant! How’d ya do that?” He asked, amazement and awe never leaving his eyes. His admiration of her craft seemed to soften her the tiniest bit. The beginnings of smile inched across her face.  
     “Hard light technology. I am an architech for the Vishkar Corporation… Or was, rather, until I accepted the Recall,” she answered, as though rehearsed, “but enough of that. It is time to get to work,”. She sat down at her chair, back straight, face stiff, and began writing and sketching on the translucent screen. _Too bad she's a Vishkar suit_ , he thought, and began to scribble away.  
     Lunch rolled around, and Junkrat got himself good and lost on his way to the mess hall. The Gibraltar headquarters was massive, and he hadn't memorized the schematics of the place yet. He eventually bumped into Roadhog, and the two found their way to the kitchens, which were currently being operated by drones. _Good! I like my machines mindless!_ They rolled up to the hot case, and helped themselves to a little bit of everything, excited by the prospect of there being more food available than either of them could possibly eat. When they entered the mess hall, it seemed all the tables were full, and no one seemed too keen to make room for them. There was one table, however, that was only occupied by a single person.  
     “Mind if we sit here?” Junkrat asked, trying out an aloof tone. Symmetra looked over the edge of her translucent tablet at the two. Her face showed no sign of emotion, save for her eyes, which lingered hesitantly on the massive man in the black leather mask.  
     “We don't bite,” he offered, in hopes to lighten the mood. She gave a quick nod, and looked back at the tablet, taking a bite of salad. They pulled the chairs out, plopping down. Their piles of food spilled over their trays, and her eyebrows knit in frustration.  
     “Thanks, Sym. All the other tables are full-up,”. They proceeded to go at their food like sharks in a frenzy.  
     “Only my friends call me Sym,” she corrected, a look of revulsion clearly displayed on her face. Junkrat didn't look up from his sandwich.  
     “Lez be fwens, den!” He smacked through his full mouth. Her disdain was practically tangible. She said nothing, and continued to try reading whatever was on her screen.  
     “Didja’ make that? Your screen, I mean. Ya make it with yer hard light, or whatever?” he ventured. She peered over the edge again, her golden eyes burning right through him, and she gave another quick nod. Roadhog watched the whole scene in relative silence. His mask was pushed up, and a great scared mouth tore away at a chicken leg and thigh. He knew when Junkrat saw something shiny, he'd poke at it incessantly, and it was best to leave him to it.  
     “Brilliant!” Junkrat wondered out loud. He couldn't stop himself from reaching out, and he delicately ran a grubby finger along the edge of it. It was so smooth! It looked like glass, but felt like metal, and a slight tremor of energy seemed to vibrate up through his finger tip, past the charred black fingernail, and up to his knuckle.  
     “Shiny!” He exclaimed, as he tried to figure the gizmo out. When he looked up, he met a look of utter disbelief, and (more noticeably), fury. He apparently had made a serious breach in protocol. Her mouth dropped open to say something, but she snapped it shut, and instead let out a pent up breath. She grabbed her napkin, and proceeded to wipe the sooty smudges off the edge of it. A boyish grin spread across his face, revealing sharp canines, and a couple of gold teeth.  
     A few moments went by, and he nonchalantly ran his finger along it again, leaving another streak of dirt. She wiped it off, staring him down, frustration building. He chuckled a little, this time sticking his entire thumb pad into the center of the screen. She slapped the tablet down on the table with a loud bang, and glared at him. He braced himself for a scream, but she remained eerily calm. He could see her hands tightening to fists on the tabletop.  
     “Tha’s better! So why was ya’ sittin’ here all by ya’ lonesome?” He asked, changing the subject. She drew her lips into a thin line, and red touched her cheeks.  
     “I wanted to read… uninterrupted!” She retorted, ending on a sharp note. Heads from the other tables whipped over to see what got Symmetra so hot and bothered, and her face grew red from the sudden attention she drew. Junkrat shrugged.  
     “Sorry, Sym. Just wanted to get t’know ya. I'll leave ya alone, then.” He offered. She didn't look like she believed him, but she brought the tablet screen back up, and hid her face behind it.  
     “It’s Symmetra.” She corrected.

. . . . .

     After the infuriatingly silent lunch, he and Roadhog lingered a bit to see about pocketing some snacks for later. He then headed back to his desk, only to find that Symmetra was already there. She and Torbörn were gazing at his computer screen, and they were in a quiet conversation.  
     “He is an utter mess! What is Winston thinking?!” She remarked. Torbörn chuckled, and tilted the screen down a little to get a better view.  
     “Yeah, but look at dese, Sym! Da boy is prolific! He could move to the prototype phases by t’morrow, and test ‘em a’fore de mission!” The short man exclaimed. Symmetra leaned forward, swiping through the digital pages of notes Junkrat had scribbled. A stray lock of dark hair escaped from the tight bun, and fell in front of her face. She swept it back, tucking it behind her ear.  
     “These designs are crude, aesthetically speaking, but as far as I can tell, they appear to be viable. I am amazed that he is capable of this level of attention, considering he doesn't even know how to wear a shirt!” She huffed. Was that jealousy in her voice? He couldn't really tell. Torbörn chuckled.  
     “Heard he pushed yer buttons at lunch. Dat boy! Probably woulda’ tugged at yer pigtails before de bell rang for recess!” He clucked. Symmetra’s back stiffened at that, and Junkrat stifled a snicker.  
     “That line of thinking is old-fashioned and inappropriate. I was trying to have a quiet lunch until he showed up and…”  
     “Tried ter make friends?” Torbörn cut her off. She glared at him.  
     “Prolific or no, I would never be friends with a person of his… ilk,” she retorted, incredulous. _Stuck up Sheila!_ Junkrat thought. Still, she had managed to give him some form of compliment, and that was a great fuel for his ego.  
     “Glad ta see my genius finally being recognized!” He beamed. The two nearly shot out of their skins, and a self-satisfied smirk took over him.  
     “Just lookin’ over yer progress! Yer quite the designer!” Torbörn remarked, after regaining his composure. Junkrat grabbed his chair, and rolled on up.  
     “This is nothin’, mate! Wait till ya see what these lovelies can do! Based em off my designs for my London job!” He beamed, popping his foot and peg leg up on the edge of the table. He wove his fingers behind his head, tipping back a little.  
     “Yer a Junker, right? Ya’ make t’ings outta scrap?” The little man offered. Junkrat nodded in appreciation.  
     “Alright, twiggy! There's a pile of junk around de corner from here. I was plannin’ just ter recycle it, but let's see if you can make some’tin outta’ it! I'll take yer designs and get the materials for ‘em, and you can make prototypes t’morrow.” Torbörn offered. Junkrat’s eyes lit up at the thought of actually building something. He popped back up, stretching out his arms and shoulders, and snuck a glance at Symmetra, who was scowling at him. He stuck his tongue out at her, and she whipped back around, burying her face in her computer screen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cautionary tale in which Junkrat learns not to mess with turrets.

     He made a spectacular mess at the work table. Scrap and debris from old bots and equipment soon littered the floor around him, most of his workspace, and plenty of it spilled into Symmetra’s perfectly organized station. Her jaw would clench tight every time a piece rolled over too close for her liking. She flicked the pieces back at Junkrat. Her annoyance was palpable, but Junkrat was downright oblivious. He was too busy hunching over, chewing on the stylus while he worked away.  
     At one point, he hopped out of his chair, a device tucked under his arm. He plopped it on the center of the floor, stretching it open. It resembled an old bear trap. Its sharp teeth made it look like a gaping maw. Torbörn watched as the Junker poked it with a piece of rebar. The contraption snapped tight, snapping the rebar clean. Junkrat giggled in delight at the results. Torbörn clapped him on the back, enjoying the sight of somebody so excited about building from seemingly nothing.  
     “Barbaric,” Symmetra muttered under her breath, before turning off her computer, and leaving the work area. Torbörn soon followed, but Junkrat decided to stay behind and do a little more work. He was having a grand ol’ time building away, and missed dinner. Roadhog came by the work area, offering a plate of food for his friend, knowing that once he was focused on tinkering, there was no stopping the lanky Junker. He wasn't sure what time it was, but eventually Roadhog grumbled good night, and head off to catch some sleep. Junkrat felt a yawn coming on, and figured it was probably time to take a break. He thumped over to the common room.  
     There was a room all ready for Roadhog, but Junkrat’s wasn't quite prepared, so he had to spend his first night on a couch. It didn't bother him any. A couch was better than a floor any day. The common room had several couches, a pool table, a dart board, a few spare tables and chairs, and a large TV that somebody had left on to a video game title screen. An empty soda bottle and bag of chips littered the floor nearby, and at the foot of the couch was a pillow and blanket with a note attached.  
**Hey Rat Boy! Your friend told me you didn't have a room yet, so here's a blankie and pillow to make you comfy! <3 D.Va PS DONT EVEN THINK ABOUT TOUCHING MY GAME!** There was a little doodle of an angry bunny underneath the message. Junkrat raised a slightly confused eyebrow, but shrugged, and took off his boot, peg leg, and prosthetic arm, leaving them in a pile on the floor. He stretched out, pulling the dark blue blanket over the length of him, and promptly fell asleep.

. . . . .

     The nightmares started, and all he could see was darkness, punctuated by screams, and flashes, and blood, and he was strapped on a table again, and all he could do was struggle against the restraints. He screamed, he roared, he flailed. His teeth fell out. His hair came out in clumps. His body crumbled around him. And then, from the darkness came a soft blue light. It was cool and calming. A voice called his name.  
     “Junkrat?” It called... She called... It was a woman’s voice.  
     “Tha’s not m’name,” he mumbled. He could feel something cool and soft touch his head.  
     “Junkrat! Wake up. You're having a nightmare,” the voice called, much sharper this time. No, he didn't want to wake up. He liked the cool feeling on his face. It was soothing. But his eyes slowly opened, and Symmetra was standing over him. She pulled her hand away from his face. He was drenched in sweat, the blanket twisted along his legs and foot, his hand clenched in a fierce grip. He didn't move at first, but he did relax his grip.  
     “Sym? Wha’re you doin’ here?” He asked. She wiped her now dirty hand on a towel slung over her shoulder. She was dressed in cropped athletic shirt, and running shorts. Her hair was pulled back into loose braid. In the glow of the TV, he could see among her soft curves the smooth lines of defined muscles.  
     “I was about to head out for a run, but I heard you… in distress,” she said. He was thankful of her for sparing the words of screaming, or whimpering. He was already embarrassed enough. He hadn’t had a nightmare that vivid in months. He kicked the blanket off, feeling like he was a raging inferno, and he brought his good hand up to his forehead to wipe off the sweat.  
     “Christ, what time’sit?” He mumbled. She looked at the digital clock above the TV, and tried not to make eye contact with his lack of leg and forearm.  
     “It is 5:47,” she answered, her voice mellow. He groaned.  
     “Why the hell ya’up so bloody early?” he grumbled. He pushed himself up onto his elbows. The light from the window behind him showed it wasn't quite dawn yet.  
     “I like to see the sunrise when I run,” she answered, a touch of wistfulness in her voice. He rolled over, burying his face into the pillow, and hitched up the edge of his shorts.  
     “Don't let me stop ya, then,” he said, waving her off. She started walking away.  
     “Oi, Sym. Mm… thanks,” he mumbled, before falling back asleep.

. . . . .

     His mess had been tidied, somewhat. His chair and table top had been wiped down. A note with impeccably neat handwriting laid in the center.

**Junkrat: Please be informed that you have left your work area in an unacceptable state last night. I have taken the liberty of cleaning your area this one time. It will not happen again. Also, do not leave food or dishes in our work area. It attracts pests. I also recommend a visit to Doctor Ziegler. She may be able to prescribe you something for more restful sleep. A well-rested body is a healthy body. -Symmetra**

_Says the crazy lady who wakes up at the ass-crack of dawn to go spyin’ on people!_ He thought. He crumpled the note, and tossed it into a nearby trash can. His new workmate was a puzzler, that was for sure. Fortunately, she and Torbörn weren't there at the moment. They had been speaking with Winston in his office. Junkrat assumed it was about the upcoming mission. He noticed a few cases of materials left on the floor. It was all the components he needed to build his new models. He set to work. He was tired, hungry (he skipped breakfast), and annoyed. Blowing something up would put him in a much better mood.  
     By the time the two had returned, it was almost noon, and a few prototypes were assembled. Torbörn seemed pleased, but Symmetra was too focused on the bigger mess left in the wake of Junkrat’s work. The Junker snickered at the look of horror etched on her face. She left for lunch while he and Torbörn head towards the testing field. The buildings shook with each blast he tried. It felt good to hear the explosions thrumming through his brain. The heat of each blast mingled with the scent of smoke and compounds. He’d bathe in it, if he could. His blood raced through him just before he'd hit each detonator.  
     “Fantastic, lad! Talon’ll never know what hit it!” Torbörn crowed. The mention of Talon brought a quick grimace to Junkrat’s face, but he pushed the worry to the back of his mind. THEY didn't need to know that Talon may have been the ones after him. He went off to grab some lunch, only to find the mess hall mostly empty. Roadhog was nowhere to be seen. A familiar face sat among the empty tables. He walked over to Symmetra.  
     “Hey. Y’seen Roadie?” She was once again reading from a tablet, but she did humor him with a quick shake no. He helped himself to a seat at her table. It'd be weird sitting alone, and the only other person in the room was the plucky little British girl, Tracer. She gave an awkward smile, but got up and left the mess hall as soon as he sat down with Symmetra.  
     “So, you always sit alone, or what?” He asked through mouthfuls of pasta. He could get used to this meals-at-regular-intervals thing, provided he actually remembered to eat them. She didn't immediately answer, and he assumed she was just going to ignore him.  
     “I prefer to be alone. It is how I've always lived,” she answered, not making eye contact.  
     “What? Too uptight to make friends?” He said in a slightly mocking tone. Her eyes narrowed to slits.  
     “I make friends, but only with those who bathe, who clean up after themselves, and aren't rude,” she mocked right back. His face scrunched up in thought.  
     “You're bein’ rude, too. But I'll let it slide. Tha’s what friends do.”. Her eyebrows knit in a quick fury, but she said nothing. She refused to rise to his bait. After a few minutes of awkward silence, punctuated by his loud smacking and chewing, he suddenly remembered the early hours. He swallowed hard, and cleared his throat.  
     “Thanks… again, for, y’know. This mornin’…” He mumbled. She sat the tablet down, ready to berate him, but when she saw the dejected look on his face, she realized what he was referring to.  
     “It was nothing. I really do think you should see our doctor. I think she can help. I had nightmares too, when I first moved in,” she offered. The sudden softening of her demeanor was unexpected. She stood up, tucked the tablet under her arm, and grabbed her tray of dishes.  
     “Hurry up, Junkrat. There is more work to be done.”

. . . . .

     “You need to clean up the testing lab,” she reminded him. A couple days had passed, and the workroom had been abuzz with planning for the upcoming mission. He looked over his shoulder, his stylus hanging loosely from his mouth. He had just sat down to solder some wiring when she had hesitantly tapped him on the shoulder. He rolled the stylus to the other side of his mouth, and grinned.  
     “Left it not to your liking?” He quipped. She bristled a bit, and pulled her tablet out from under her arm.  
     "I have new designs to test, and need a clean area to work with. Incidentally, explosives are to be tested outside.” she coolly explained. He pulled the stylus out of his mouth. The hard light was resilient, and he hadn't managed to leave a single indent upon it. It didn't stop her from grimacing at the saliva-covered tool, though.  
     “Hey! I was only testin’ lil ones, but alright, Sym. I'll play maid, but I get ta stay an’ watch!” He grinned.  
     “Symmetra,” she corrected. “Why do you want to watch?”.  
     “Call me crazy, but I think this hard light stuffa’ yers is pretty fantastic!”. She hugged the tablet across her chest. He had learned that complimenting her abilities was a great way to get her to warm up.  
     “Oh! Well… yes, I suppose you can watch…” She answered. Her eyes met his for a millisecond and darted away, and he followed her to the testing lab, where scraps and debris were scattered about. He grabbed a near-by push broom, and swept everything to the far side, hoping to save the scrap for later use. She reached into a steel cabinet, and procured a couple sets of tinted goggles. She handed him a pair, and popped hers on. She then sat the tablet on a steel table, stood to the side of it, and began to pull wisps of light from her palm. He watched transfixed as she sculpted it into a sphere. The turret wasn't very large. Only about the size of a bowling ball, and he had a hard time believing that anything that small could do any real damage (his own creations aside, of course).  
     “From light into being!” She sighed at the sight of her handiwork.  
     “Howz’it work?” He asked, reaching out to touch it. Her hand whipped out and caught his wrist in a surprisingly strong grip.  
     “This weapon is live, Junkrat. Do not be reckless.” she scolded, wiping the soot off her hand. From her gauntlet, she pulled up another sheath of light, and flicked the blob over herself. It slowly spread, covering her for a moment in hexagonal panels that contoured to her body, and then seemed to vanish.  
     “Whatta you..” But his question was interrupted when she did the same to him. The light was cool and tingling, and he felt it stretch all over his lanky frame.  
     “You are now shielded. Safety first.” she reminded. He didn't really look or feel any different, apart from the slight tremor it had left behind. She readjusted her goggles, and he quickly popped his down. She ran her hand over the sphere, and it started to hum and float up from its triangular base. Clicking away at the tablet, she seemed completely at ease. A small metal disc popped out from the ceiling, and the turret whipped around, zapping it with an intense orange beam. She clicked again, and another popped out of the floor. The turret swiveled in a millisecond, and blasted that one as well. Over and over the metal discs popped out from various parts of the ceiling, floor, and walls, and each time, the turret took it out with a loud zap. Junkrat stood speechless.  
     “Targeting: satisfactory,” she murmured, making a note on the screen. Satisfactory?! She clicked again, and this time the door behind them opened. A drone-bot came hovering out. The turret swirled, aiming right at them. If this bothered Symmetra, she didn't show it.  
     “Oi… SsssyyyyymmmFUCK!” He shrieked as the turret shot a continuous beam in the space between them. It locked onto the bot, reducing it to a pile of shrapnel in mere seconds with a loud buzz. The pieces bounced off the two harmlessly, without leaving a single mark. His mouth hung open in shock and awe, and she took in a very satisfied breath.  
     “Perfection…” She purred, lifting up the turret.  
     “That! That! How?! What?! Hoooowwwwww?!” He blundered.  
     “That is why I shielded you. The turret senses the hard light around you, and will naturally avoid targeting you,” she explained, assuming (correctly) that he wished to know how they were still standing. She handed him the turret sphere for him to inspect. He ran his hands along it, feeling it hum in his palm, and through the metal of his prosthesis.  
     “Fuckin’ brilliant! Tha’z… fuckin’ brilliant! Can I play with it?” he beamed. It was small, loud, and could create utter havoc. He fucking loved it! The sight of him so excited was hard to say no to, and she gave a smug nod, though she remained to supervise. He kept picking up pieces of scrap and shrapnel, tossing them in the air. Each time, the turret would swivel and blast the piece before it would hit the ground. An impish look crossed his face, and he picked up a larger piece of scrap from the destroyed bot. Symmetra seemed to know what he had in mind.  
     “Junkrat, NO!” She warned.  
     “Junkrat, YES!” He cackled, and he quickly whipped the piece in front of him like a shield. The turret blasted him square in the chest, knocking him back into the wall. She had hidden her eyes behind her hands for a moment, and when she peeked through, she saw him crumpled up on the floor, giggling idiotically, though unhurt.  
     “I want one! Can I keep it?” he begged. She reached over, deactivating the turret.  
     “That was incredibly foolish!” she scolded, though it didn't seem to affect his excitement. He scrambled to get to his feet.  
     “I think that is enough testing for one day.” She grumbled, grabbing the push-broom to start cleaning up the piles that had once been targets and bots. He grabbed the handle from her, shooing her away. There wasn't much usable scrap left, but he felt he owed her for that level of entertainment.  
     “Can't wait ta see ‘em in action, Sym. Tell Talon ta buzz off!” He chuckled. And then something wholly unexpected happened. She laughed, too. It was soft, but rich, and there was warmth in it that touched her eyes. It ended far too quickly for his liking, but it brought a bigger smile to his face. She seemed embarrassed that she found it amusing, and tried to hide her smile. He made a mental note. In the testing facility, Junkrat discovered that Symmetra had a weakness for horrible puns.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Junkrat is a complete knob...

     The peace between the two did not last long. Junkrat didn't clean up after himself, ever, and Symmetra was quick to point this out in no uncertain terms every day. He refused to eat at any other table. He told himself it was for spite, but he genuinely wondered if that was true. Something compelled him to speak to her. She reminded him of the safe in Dorado. That had been a tough nut to crack, but it made the reward more fulfilling. He wanted to know what made her tick. What sort of person pulls light from nothing, and bends it to their will? He still couldn't quite fathom it. When he caught his mind wandering to those thoughts, he'd shake his head and remind himself of the new sticky-note placed on his desk to remind him that his messes were unacceptable. _Definitely spite_ , he'd remind himself. It also didn't help that she’d rise to his bait so easily.

     Things came to a head the day before the scheduled mission. The morning had started out relatively pleasant. Junkrat had woken after a good night’s rest (a rarity for him). He had a pad of his own now, and he wasted no time making a huge mess of parts, components, and sketch pads. He was early, for once, and took the time to enjoy tea with Roadhog, who had always been a morning person. The other team members had stopped looking at him and Roadie with cringed faces. A few had even introduced themselves. Winston only scowled at them occasionally. Everything was great, until he went into the workroom.

     The panels barely shut behind him before he saw Symmetra briskly walking towards him. He rolled his eyes for his morning lecture on cleanliness, and she started right into it. He cut her off mid-sentence.

     “Oh, lay off, Sym! I was having a good morning,” he groaned. She followed him to his desk, deftly dodging odd parts and wads of paper. She continued to lecture that he still needed to pack everything safely for the mission tomorrow. He tuned her out, and she gave up. She worked in silence for the rest of the morning, her jaw clenching every time he made a sound. This didn't go unnoticed, and Junkrat went out of his way to be extra noisy. He purposefully knocked stuff over, clanged his screwdriver against the metal edge of the desk in an annoying tune he had stuck in his head, and even twirled around in his chair, making it squeak loudly.  
Symmetra hissed something under her breath, and stared at her screen in frustration. Something that wasn't directly related to Junkrat was also bothering her. He wheeled his chair up, and peered over her shoulder. She was calculating something, and the numbers weren't adding up. He got a little closer, and recognized the design for her turret. She was attempting to make it smaller, more compact, without losing any firepower.  
     “That should be divided, not multiplied,” he said, pointing at the mistake on the screen after scanning her formula. When he looked back over, he was met with her piercing gaze. If looks could kill, he reckoned he'd be six feet under, but did that stop him? Of course not!  
     “Gettin’ careless there, Sym!” He teased. Her nostrils flared, her hands balled into fists, and her face grew downright red. He didn't stop grinning smugly, and it was only adding fuel to her fire, which was what he wanted. He found it hilarious that he was able to so easily get under her skin. Torbörn could sense the mounting tension from the other side of the room, where he had been fine-tuning one of his turret guns at a different workbench.  
     “Twiggy, if ye don't have ‘nuttin’ better ta do than ruffle her fedders, den get yer ass to de mess hall and put some meat on dem bones, an’ leave us be!” He growled. As if on que, Junkrat’s stomach gave a loud growl of its own. He pushed back from his chair, and hitched up his shorts.  
     “Not a bad idea. Wouldn't mind a change of scenery. This place is gettin’ all scowley!” He snickered, and left the workroom with a quick ‘Ta!’.  
The mess hall was starting to crowd up as everyone had filed in early for lunch. Hog was already seated at a table with a couple of the team members that had already introduced themselves. Jesse seemed to be a kindred spirit to the Junkers. He had a criminal past, and an appreciation for their rough lifestyle. Surprisingly, the little gamer-whiz, Hana (or DVa, as she preferred to be called) also seemed to take a shine to the two. She referred to Hog as ‘Piggy’ (he didn't seem to mind), and she found Junkrat to be downright hilarious.  
     “Fancy seeing you here! Tired of getting the cold shoulder from the ice queen?” McCree smirked. Junkrat began to tuck into his lunch.  
     “Fuff! Don't get me started!” He huffed between bites.  
     “Don't know how you can stand workin’ with her. She never says a damn thing. Basically just ghosts through the joint,” the cowboy grumbled.  
     “Oh, she says plenty ta me! Nothin’ I wanna’ hear, though.”.  
     “Maybe if ya stop rilin’ ‘er up…” Roadhog said under his breath.  
     “Can’t help it, mate. She’s fun to rile. So damn easy!”.  
     “Hey! Layoff! I like Sym! She likes to play puzzle games with me!” D.Va snapped.  
     “Really?” Junkrat asked with slight disbelief.  
     “Yeah! Well, one time she did. I was stuck on a level for hours, and then she offered to help… she beat the rest of the game in fifteen minutes,” she huffed. “Still can't convince her to come out for Girls Night, though,”.  
     “What the hell is Girls Night?” Junkrat asked.  
     “Oh! Every month, all us ladies go out somewhere together. Let our hair down. Have a little fun, y’know?” She answered.  
     “Hah! No wonder she says no! I'm tellin’ ya, she’s nothin but a damn motha' hen! If she did go, all she’d do is lecture ya! Everyday she’s all ‘Junkrat! Clean up your station! Junkrat, pull up yer pants! Junkrat, yer gonna miss dinner! Junkrat, yer severely malnourished! Junkrat, focus on yer work! We have ta prepare for the next mission! Junkrat, land mines are not ta be tested at the design table!’ 'Junkrat! Don't set the rubbish bin on fire!'. I swear, that woman wouldn't know fun if it came an’ bit ‘er on her prim lil ass!” He cackled, trying his best to imitate her voice. At this, he felt a hard stomp on his foot, and he glared at Roadhog.  
     “Oi! What the fuck, mate?!” He hissed, trying to work the sting out of his toes, but was interrupted by the very distinctive click of heels walking briskly out of the mess hall. The grimaces from the cowboy and the pipsqueak had told him enough. Sym must have heard every word he said.  
     She didn't come back to work the rest of the day. He didn't see her at dinner either, nor anywhere after. It was fine by him, really. If she was going to sulk, let her. Saved him from getting yelled at in the workroom! Torbörn must have sensed that something happened. It wasn’t like Sym to take a half day to herself, but the little man said nothing. He did give Junkrat sideways glances all through the rest of the day, though.  
     Guilt was an entirely foreign concept to Junkrat. He had felt the occasional pangs before, but he usually just brushed them off, and why would this have been any different? Everyone else was so busy prepping for the next day’s mission, that the Junkers had very little to do after they packed their supplies onto the dropship. They retired to the common room to watch some television in relative silence. Junkrat busied himself painting crude faces onto grenades.  
     “Can’t wait for t’morrow! Been a while since I got a chance to put my skills ta actual use!” He giddily chirped. Hog let out an angry grunt.  
     “Oi! What's with that tone?” He huffed at his big friend.  
     “You're an ass…” Roadhog rumbled. This was something he said on a nearly daily basis, but today’s iteration seemed to have a bit more bite to it than usual.  
     “Whatcha’ goin’ on about, mate?” Junkrat growled. He was in a decidedly good mood, and Hog was spoiling it.  
     “Lunch, ya knob! Said some shitty things about Sym!” he snapped. Junkrat scrunched up his nose in annoyance.  
     “Just said what was true. Sheila’s been buggin’ me all the time, goin’ on like a damn mother hen! Nothin’ ever good ‘nuff for her…” At this, Roadhog reached over the back of the couch, and smacked the back of Junkrat’s head, causing the lanky bomber to spill his bottle of paint.  
     “Fuck off, mate!” He hissed, setting the bottle back up, but leaving the white puddle on the table. He dipped his brush in the puddle, and kept working.  
     “Ya didn't see the look on her face…” Hog growled.  
     “Yeah? She look mad?” he snickered. He could imagine her, face red, jaw clenched, fists tight.  
     “Nope,”. Hog’s answer caused Junkrat to stop painting.  
     “Yeah? So what? Was just…”  
     “Bein’ a dick. Not everyone finds ya as entertainin’ you do, an’ from the sound'a it, she only has good intentions,” Hog slowly explained. Junkrat looked over his shoulder.  
     “Bossin’ me ‘round is good intentions? Fuckin’ mental,” he groaned, settling back to his painting.  
     “We ain't in Junkertown no more. Gotta’ learn to work with civilized people, so act like a fuckin’ adult and ‘pologize ‘fore she tells the ape ya been a tit, and get us sacked!” Hog wheezed. He was a man of few words, after all, and yelling often took its toll. He took in a slow breath to steady himself.  
     “Aw, that's it, yeah? Worried we’re gonna’ get chucked out?” He chuckled, giving Roadie a reassuring pat on his arm. He left a white hand-print on the big Junker’s elbow.  
     “As a matter a fact, I like Sym. Nice ta see somebody try an’ put yer ass in place. Plus, she smells nice,” he countered, wiping the paint away with his hand, and then onto his pant leg. Junkrat sneered.  
     “Got yerself a bit of a crush there, Hog?” he giggled. Roadhog clicked off the television, and slowly stood up.  
     “I'm thinkin’ she’s more of a kin’red spirit… who bathes regularly,” he said, and stumped off towards his room. Junkrat finished up his grenades, stewing in his own thoughts.  
     Why should he apologize? From day one, all he tried to do was get to know her. They had to share a table, for crying out loud! It made sense to get to know a person you worked with, right? And all she seemed to do was demean and look down upon him. She always spoke to him like he was a child. She always wrinkled her nose whenever he ate, and mutter under her breath whenever he tried to crack a joke. He was starting to wonder what his initial fascination with her even was. Well… he knew what part of it was. He had always been a sucker for wide hips.  
     ….and pouty lips.  
     ….and powerful thighs.  
     …. _fuck, what was I thinking about again?_ He tried focusing on the things about her that drove him mad. _Right! She's a nagging neat-freak!… who's sharp as a tack and does things no one else can… No! No! Stop it! She’s the suitiest suit who ever did suit… she looks damn good in it, but still! She's humorless… Apart from that time she laughed in the lab… Dammit! No! She didn't even give me a chance… And I ... really haven't given her a reason to...._  
     He lobbed the paintbrush onto the table like a dart, frustrated and annoyed. Sym probably would have lectured him about the mess he'd made with the paint. _Why's she gotta be so bloody Miss Perfect all the time?!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Junkrat discovers that he and Sym have something in common, and that he's not particularly fond of the ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance. I'm more of a comedy writer, and action/drama are things I'm trying to work on.

            Symmetra sat at the opposite side of the dropship, alone. She kept her eyes focused either at her hands folded in her lap, or straight at the wall on the other side of the ship. Junkrat snuck the occasional glance at her, hardly recognizing her in her tactical gear. Her hair hung loose around her, and her headset framed her face nicely. Her pale blue visor amplified the gold of her eyes. Her uniform hugged her frame in a rather flattering manner, and she reminded him of one of the characters from D.Va’s games. She looked, well, cool.

            “You apologize t’her, yet?” Roadhog whispered, as the rest of the crew was busying themselves with preparations.

            “I'm workin’ on it. She ain't makin’ it easy,” Junkrat huffed. Roadhog grabbed him by his grenade harness, and hissed in his ear.

            “Mate, ya’ don't do it by day's end, I'll drag ya over to her, kickin’ an’ screamin’ in the mess hall in fronta’ everyone!”. Normally, he'd laugh off that threat, but part of him was fairly convinced that Hog wasn't lying. After a couple hours, the ship landed. Junkrat wasn't sure where, because he hadn't paid attention at the meeting. It was somewhere near the ocean. There were cliffs off in the distance, and a rural town in the valley below. The team awaited Winston for their orders.

            “The payload is on schedule, and will drop in two hours. I'll have defense team down around the edge of the village. Attack? I need you to be ready on the plateau for the payload to drop. If Talon has caught wind of this, that's where they're going to hit first. Build team?” He asked, looking over at Torbörn.

            “I’ll be joining defense, setting up a turret perimeter outside of town. I'll be leaving Sym and Twiggy at de cliff tops. Dey'll be settin’ up deir own turrets and defenses along de cliff paths, and keep a look out. And if t’ings get hairy…” The bearded man started.

            “I get ta’ blow up the path?” Junkrat offered, giddily. He hoped things got hairy. It would make up for the fact that they made him leave his RIPtire behind on the dropship. Torbörn conceded with a weary sigh. Winston ignored the interruption, and signaled everybody to move out. Symmetra quickly spread a shield over everyone on the team, holstered her weapon at her hip, and walked past Junkrat without even looking at him. He followed along silently.

            They were a couple miles away from their central point, and had just entered a derelict path that had once been used for herding goats. Junkrat watched as she brought forth her spherical turrets from nothingness. With ease, she placed them along the crags. He dared not interrupt her progress, and instead laid a couple mines here and there. As they climbed higher, he saw a spot perfect for closing up the path. He wired a lot of charges there, and smiled at the thought of hitting the detonator later. As they mounted the top of the cliffs, they were surprised with an amazing view. 

            There were remnants of old cottages spread around. Not much was left of them beyond a few stone walls. One of them still had a bit of a roof, and they chose that spot to make their temporary base. Sym muttered under her breath that the place could use some serious fixing up. Junkrat thought that it was world's better than anything he had in Junkertown. They went back outside to keep an eye out for any incoming opposition.

            The grass grew in patches, dotted with summer wildflowers, and the cliff overlooked westward to the sea. The sun was getting close to setting, and the sky was beginning to transition into shades of gold and red. A few puffed clouds dotted the horizon. He looked over at Sym, who was gazing out at the ocean. She seemed to be lost to the rhythm of the waves crashing below; her face relaxed to the peaceful surroundings. The wind whipped her long hair back. She looked almost ethereal. A lump formed in Junkrat’s throat, and he swallowed hard, choking back the feeling of regret that was welling up.

            “Awful quiet. Wouldn't mind Talon showing up. Have a lil fun, right?” he started, in hopes of breaking the ice. She didn't look at him, but her hands clenched into their usual tight fists.

            “What would I know about fun? I wouldn't know it if it bit me on my prim little ass…” She sneered, though her voice was alarmingly steady. Junkrat flinched at the sound of his own words coming to haunt him.

            “Didn't mean it like that…”.

            “Yes you did. You just didn't mean for me to hear it,” she cut in.

            “Aw, c’mon Sym! Y’know I was just…”

            “Being hurtful!” She snapped. His face screwed up in frustration.

            “Tellin’ the truth, actually! Ain't my fault if ya took it personal! You're a horrible nag!” He snapped back. _Why the fuck should I apologize?_

            “I did not realize reminding you to be an adult and have some semblance of self-preservation is considered nagging. I will remember this the next time you strong-arm your way into my personal space to harass me!”.

            “Yer overreactin’! I was just teasin’!” he interjected, and it was apparently the wrong thing to say. She whipped around, pointing at him.

            “Don’t you dare! You don't get to tell me how I feel! You came here, upsetting the order I had constructed, never leaving me alone, never giving me a moment to myself, purposefully going out of your way to be cruel! You embarrassed me in front of a group of our teammates, and then you have the audacity to tell me I shouldn’t be angry?!” She shouted. Her raised voice silenced him. She let out a bit of a shudder.

            “I'm not asking anyone to like me. I know I can be hard to work with. All I ask is that you respect me enough to just…leave me alone.” She murmured, blinking black tears, and she turned away to stare back at the sunset.

            _Fuck! Have I really been that wretched?_ He thought back upon the past two weeks, and realized, yes. Yes he had. He was so used to being around people with monstrously thick skins. So used to never sticking around to witness the impact of his actions. 

            “…m sorry…”, he said, and for the first time in his life, he actually meant it. She refused to acknowledge him, but he assumed she didn't hear him.

            “Sym? I said I'm sorry, alright? Just… just been me an’ Roadie for a long time, yeah? Never really had ta work with other people. S’pose I'm bound ta muck it up. Say things without thinkin’, y’know? Not used ta bein’ ‘round you civilized types,” he tried to explain. He wasn't particularly good with words, but he'd hoped she'd at least acknowledge his apology.

            “We’re supposed to be team mates. We’re supposed to trust each other. I can't do that if you don't have a shred of respect for me,” she murmured. That didn't sit well with him, and he found it a pretty hypocritical.

            “Goes both ways, Sym. Yer always lookin’ down on me. Don't think I can't tell. I'm a loud dirty criminal. Yer all clean an’ order. I get it. I'm everythin ya hate, but give me some credit. I made it this far in life without anyone’s help. I ain't stupid.”. His words gave her pause for thought.

            “I never said you were,” she murmured, and exhaled sharply through her nose, “tomorrow, I will request a separate work station. I have little to move, and I work better in solitude.”

            “Yeah, ‘cause THAT’S how teams work, right? No one talk to each other? No one work t’gether? Crack a joke?” he retorted, dripping with sarcasm. He didn't notice her back stiffen, or her head tilt upwards.

            “Stop talking!” She hissed, walking towards him with a sudden sense of urgency.

            “There ya go again…” But she slapped her hand over his mouth before he could finish the sentence.

            “Stop talking! Do you hear that?!” She whispered, eyes to the sky. He looked up, pushing her hand away. His hearing wasn't particularly good, but he could make out the distinctive hum of a dropship, and noticed an odd shimmer in the sky. A feeling of both dread and excitement threaded through him.

            “They're flying cloaked! Fuck! Sym! Get on the commlink! They brought the fight to us!” He snarled, and he ran over to their cover spot. The sounds of incoming enemies had brought a momentary truce as they prepared for what was sure to be a very hairy situation. Junkrat snatched up his frag launcher, reached into one of his packs, and began loading. He ran back out into the open. A wicked grin came over him as he took aim upwards.

            “Smile!” He cackled, pulling the trigger.

.           .           .           .           .

 

            “They're PERSISTENT bastards! I'll give 'em that!” Said Junkrat, taking cover behind a crumbling stone wall with Symmetra, who was trying to catch her breath. She quickly fired a few blasts from her photon projector before ducking back down to avoid the barrage of bullets they volleyed back.

            “Oi Sym! Ya’ still mad at me?!” He shouted over the cacophony of gunfire. She glared at him, more so in shock than anger.

            “Is this really the best time for this conversation?!” She shouted back, reloading light from her palm.

            “Don't know if ya’ve noticed, but we’re kinda’ outnumbered here. If this shit goes tits-up, I don't wanna cark it knowin’ yer still mad!” He continued to shout. He quickly peeked over the top of their cover, and a bullet whizzed past his face, too close for comfort.

            “That stupid git almost hit me mug!” He shouted with an odd amount of glee. He quickly grabbed one of the grenades off his chest, pulling the pin with his teeth, and hurled it over the stone wall. Symmetra instinctively dropped her weapon, and put her hands over her ears. Her headset muffled the sounds fairly well, but she still covered them as though it would help. She could feel the concussion from the blast. 

            “In truth? I'm still mad! But we have more pressing matters to deal with, so I accept your apology!” She answered as she scooped her weapon back up, and fired again. Her aim was dead on. A blue ball of light slammed the Talon agent square in the chest, and he fell backwards. The last of her turrets she had hastily laid before Talon dropped had been annihilated.

            “Works for me!” He replied, accepting her offer. He grabbed another grenade, and lobbed it over. He hadn't even looked, but it seemed to be a lucky shot by the sounds of the screams. A relative hush fell over the cliff top. Junkrat peered over the wall.

            “Hooly dooly! Um… Maybe don't look this way. It's a touch… messy, but them fuckers are fallin’ back!” he triumphantly crowed. She dared not look at the damage his grenades and mines made. She took a few more breaths to steady her nerves, and peered off to the side. 

            “They're not falling back! They're heading to the pathway!” She corrected, and immediately touched the side of her headset, activating the commlink. 

            “Everyone! Enemy combatants are heading your way! Have you made it to the path yet?” She called. The group gave a resounding no, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Let Talon bottleneck itself through their mines and turrets! Junkrat reached over, touching the same spot on her headset, and leaned in far too close for comfort.

            “Can I press the button?! Please say I can!” he giddily pleaded. There was a brief pause as he waited for a response, his face hovering inches from her.

            “Yes! We’re at the ORCA! Lock them in! Do it now!” Winston roared, and Junkrat’s eyes lit up. He giddily pulled out the detonator, and flipped open the safety top. He beamed an impish grin to Sym as his thumb pressed the little red button. Despite the distance, a deafening explosion echoed, and the ground beneath her rumbled. When everything seemed to settle, a very shaken Symmetra backed up to their cover spot.

            A black blur launched over the wall, tackling her to the ground. Somehow, a Talon agent took them both by surprise. He was a lot stronger than Sym, too. He knocked her gun away, pinning down her wrist with one hand, and began squeezing her neck with the other.

            “OH NO YOU DON’T!” Junkrat roared! He dropped his grenade launcher, not wanting to catch Sym in the blast, and loped over towards the tussle. He grabbed the agent by the scruff, pulling him off of Symmetra. She coughed as air returned to her lungs, and she immediately began to reach for her weapon. Junkrat and the agent were locked in a grappling match, and while the agent was clearly injured, he was surprisingly nimble. The two struggled, matching grab for grab, and jab for jab, and they drew precariously close to the edge of the cliff. Symmetra charged her weapon, waiting for a clear shot. The agent finally gained an upper hand, sweeping low to knock the unbalanced junker off-kilter, and shoved him over the edge. Sym wasted no time firing at the distracted agent, blasting him over, too.

            There was a moment where everything seemed to slow down. Junkrat could see behind him, at Sym’s face peering over the edge. She was screaming something, and he could barely register that it was his name. The agent falling in tandem next to him was clearly no longer alive, and he was suddenly reminded that he was falling towards the ocean below, and that he didn't know how to swim. He hit the water with a loud slap, and immediately started to flail towards the surface. He bobbed out of the water for a moment, gulping air. The sea hadn't been particularly rough or choppy, but he could feel the currents pulling at him, and the uneven weight from his metal limbs sent him spinning. The depths began to pull him down. As the water began to rise over his face, he saw Sym throw herself off the cliff in a dive. He was fully pulled beneath the surface. His lungs began to burn, and the salt water stung his eyes. The air escaped him in huge bubbles, and he could feel the water filling his lungs. His body grew slack, and everything around him grew dark as he sank deeper into the abyss.

.           .           .           .           .

 

            Symmetra saw him go over the edge, and her stomach dropped in dread. She wasted no time blasting the enemy agent, ran to the edge, and screamed to Junkrat. He plummeted about thirty feet, and she watched him hit the surface with a loud smack. Junkrat flailed, and she could tell he wasn't going to stay afloat for long. She dropped her photon gun, and without a moment of hesitation, dove in after him. She had always been a strong swimmer, but she still prayed to the gods that her regular practice of laps would aid her. It was dark. The sun had long since set, and the water was an inky black. She thought she could make out a shadow amongst the din, and increased the light from her gauntlet. The salt water stung her eyes, but the adrenaline coursing through her forced the discomfort aside. Below the waves, she could see him, lank and lifeless, sinking further down.

            Kicking with all her might, she hooked her hands through the straps of his grenade harness. At least she had a decent way of gripping him. She was thankful he had left his heavy spiked tire behind, or else she knew there'd be no way of saving him. She broke the surface of the water, gasping, and struggled to pull his head above the waves. She could see in the distance an edge of gray that appeared to be a beach. Symmetra kicked, heading towards what she hoped was sand. 

            Carrying the rag doll that was Junkrat was no easy task. He constantly slipped from her grip, and his metal parts would weigh him down, causing him to sink. She tried hooking her arm under his, but that only made things worse. Blinking back tears and panic, she slowly resigned herself to the fact that she was going to have to let him go. A roar could be heard from above. In the distance, she could make out the distinctive form of Roadhog, and Mercy’s glowing wings looking down from where she had leapt only moments ago. The dropship could be heard above the sound of the waves. The sight of them brought forth a new burst of adrenaline. If she could just hold out, maybe they'd survive this! She steeled herself, looping her arm tightly around his chest, and tried paddling with the other.

            The waves had kicked up, adding insult to injury, and they kept cresting over her head, blinding her. She could feel them pushing her closer to shore, but she had no control of direction. Her arms ached. Her calves screamed. She could make out the white cap of a large wave coming right for her, and she braced herself. Her body crunched against a rock that had been hidden just below the surface. Symmetra could feel the impact on her gauntlet, now crushed and shattered. It was all too much. The man wrapped in her good arm (whom only an hour ago she was arguing with) was likely dead, and she was going to die there, too. It hurt even more knowing how close to shore they were.

            Symmetra felt a bump against her toe… it was sand! She had at last reached a point where she hit solid ground! Heaving a sob of relief, she tried pushing forward. The sounds of heavy splashing came towards her. She could see Roadhog lumbering through the water, backlit by the glow of the dropship waiting on the sand. He caught up with them, and scooped Junkrat up. The colossal Junker hoisted her to her feet, and took off running to shore. The waves pulled at her legs as she tried to run, too. She could feel the adrenaline leaving, and the weariness began tugging at her.

            She never thought a man as large and heavy as Roadhog could move so quickly, but he had already reached the beach, and Mercy was already bent over Junkrat, giving him chest compressions. Symmetra’s legs gave out the moment she reached them. She wasn't sure if it was from exertion, or just relief to be out of the sea, but her heart still hammered in her chest as she watched Mercy breathe into Junkrat’s mouth. She had taken too long getting him to shore. Her struggle had been in vain, and the person she thought she couldn’t stand now lay dead because of her. She fell back onto the sand, blinking at the sky. Symmetra felt a numbness creep over her.

.           .           .           .           .

 

 

            “Gods! You're! You're alive!” Junkrat was sitting upright, coughing as more saltwater kept pouring out of him. He flopped backwards in the sand. Sand.  _I'm on a beach? I didn't die?_  He thought. His head slowly turned, still panting to suck glorious oxygen into his lungs. His wet hair hung lank, and stuck to parts of his face. Symmetra was also lying flat on her back. She was sopping wet, her headset cracked, and her chest heaved trying to catch her breath. Her head turned, and there was a look of shock, disbelief, but above all, relief. The sky was dark, and clear. He could hear the waves slapping on the shore. After some time, he finally felt well enough to venture a question.

            “How'd… we… get... here?” He gasped between breaths, gazing back at the stars, and feeling thankful he could still see them. It took him a few moments to realize they were not alone. Mercy’s angelic face leaned over them.

            “You took a tumble, and Symmetra went after you. She was able to keep you two afloat long enough for us to get to you!” the medic answered. He looked back over at Sym, who’s metal-cased arm hung limply at her side, crushed and broken. He didn't see any blood, but he knew her arm was going to be of no use for a while. Mercy waved over Roadhog and Reinhardt, and the two giant men gladly leaned over to scoop their friends up. Junkrat didn't bother stopping Hog. He was too damn weary to pretend to walk. Sym tried to refuse the old man in his giant armor, but he took his helmet off, revealing a kind face.

            “Ah, Symmetra, humor an old soul. T’would be my honor.” He said, his voice oddly soothing. Sym reluctantly nodded, and the giant man bent down, gently scooping her up. She seemed so small in his mammoth arms.

            Tracer had landed the ship on the beach, and the rest of the crew eagerly awaited their arrival for answers. Once secured inside, Mercy floated over to Winston, and the crew started bombarding Symmetra with questions. She very clearly had no want of it. 

            “Oi! Will you lot just bugger off for bit? Can't ya see Sym’s exhausted?” Junkrat snapped. The large woman with pink hair (he remembered she was on Roadhog’s team) gave a big booming laugh.

            “The Rat Man is right! Let's leave the two be! We can get answers later!” Zarya instructed, and the crew cleared out of their way to the other end of the drop ship. Sym curled up on her gurney, and started to both yawn and shiver. Junkrat pulled himself onto the gurney next to hers. He couldn't stop trembling. Mercy hovered over, still in her tactical gear.

            “I see you two had time for a swim!” She joked, and Junkrat snorted.

            “Certainly wasn't MY idea!” He quipped through tremors. She did a quick scan of the two with a small device.

            “Oh, Sym! Poor thing! Two broken ribs? That must not feel too good. I'll need you to stay in the med bay when we get back. Both of you. Just for the night. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll also need your prosthetics. I will have Torbörn see that they are in working order!” she instructed. Junkrat didn't think much of it, and popped off his peg leg and metal arm. He glanced over, and watched Sym start to undo her gauntlet. He was worried to see how bad her crushed arm would look, oblivious to the fact that she showed no sign of pain. The gauntlet came off… and there was no arm beneath.

            It never occurred to him that she was like him. She had always referred to the casing as her gauntlet, and he just assumed it was something she simply popped on over her arm. She turned, catching him staring where her arm ended just past her shoulder, and a blush crept over her face as she continued to tremble from the cold and shock. Mercy took the crushed arm from her, and held a different device close to her side. A gold glow emanated from it, and a sigh of relief edged out of the architech. Mercy pulled a blanket up over Sym, tucking her in. She turned, did the same to Junkrat, and took her leave with an armful of metal appendages. Sym’s eyelids began to droop. The adrenaline had run its course, and the shock was no match for physical exertion. She was asleep in moments. Winston came walking up on all fours.

            “Symmetra, I need you to…” He began, reaching a hand out to shake her awake. Junkrat stopped him.

            “Na’ mate. Can'tcha’ see she's tired? Let ‘er sleep. What do ya wanna know?” He asked, his voice hoarse from the coughing and salt water. Winston seemed taken aback by his response. He asked Junkrat to tell him what happened in detail. He tried, to the best of his abilities. He told Winston how they had heard the carriers coming, how the agents dropped down, about how they had to hole-up, and keep their attackers at bay, about how Sym took down about a good third of the attackers, and how he was thrown from the cliff, and how she dove in to save him. 

            “That's quite the story! By the time we reached the path, they were bottlenecked in the worst way! We were able to do a quick fly-over, and take out the few that made it through the mines and turrets! And to think, they thought they had a leg-up on us!” He laughed. It was weird to see Winston giddy. He left the two alone to rest, but word got around fast. Junkrat tried to catch a nap, but kept waking to find people nonchalantly walking by to take a peek at them. Roadhog eventually took up sentry, snorting at anyone who tried to get too close to them.

            “I did as ya said. I ‘pologized. Think she's still mad, though,” Junkrat grunted. Roadhog gave his friend a once-over.

            “Dont think she woulda’ risked ‘er life if she was, though,” he rumbled in response. Junkrat mulled it over, and shivered.

            “Fuckin’ hate the ocean…”.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat takes a shower. Also, Sym makes a funny...

            “Ah! You're awake! Feeling better?” Mercy piped from the foot of Symmetra’s hospital bed. Sym gave a polite nod.

            “Yes. Rested, but in need of a shower, and some breakfast, too. I think I could do with some tea,” she replied. Mercy handed her a plush bath robe to throw on over the thin hospital gown, as well as a pair of shower slippers.

            “I thought as much. You do tend to keep clean. I took the liberty of having your uniform cleaned, but I'm afraid Torbörn won't be able to repair your gauntlet or headset…” The doctor explained. Sym gave another nod, though she seemed a touch sad.

            “I figured as much. I will have to contact Vishkar, and have them create a new one for me. It was a custom design, and will take some time to replicate,” she responded, fumbling to get the robe on with only one hand. Junkrat had kept his mouth shut during the entire conversation between the two, mostly because he was in desperate need of something caffeinated, and was having a difficult start to the day. Watching Sym struggle to tie the robe felt like he was witnessing something he shouldn't. Mercy leaned over, adjusting the robe on her shoulders, and tied the belt in a quick little knot. Sym seemed embarrassed.

            “Will you need assistance with showering? I could…” But Sym hopped off the bed, sliding her feet into the slippers.

            “No need, Doctor Zeigler. I will manage. Thank you.” She said in a hushed tone, shuffling out of the med bay. A slight frown crossed Mercy’s sweet face, and she sighed. She made a quick note on her tablet, and turned to Junkrat, who was busy scratching his neck and shoulder. 

            “And you’re awake too, I see! How are you feeling?” She asked, just as chipper and plucky as she had been with Sym only a few minutes ago.

            “Like a drowned rat. Why’m I all itchy?” he growled. She merely laughed in response.

            “Oh, and it seems we have a case of the grumps this morning! The itchiness is from the salt. You'll probably want a shower. Your friend should be here any moment to assist you. I took the liberty of having your clothes cleaned as well. Well, your shorts, anyways. There's no easy way to wash a grenade harness!” she joked. He scowled some more. He never had been a morning person, and sleep had been downright impossible with the images of last night constantly popping up. The doctor realized she had forgotten a robe for Junkrat, and went to retrieve one, leaving her tablet on the exam table next to his bed. Curiosity got the better of him, and he peeked over to see if she had anything written about him. The screen had somebody else’s medical report on display.

 

Vaswani, Satya (Symmetra)

Age: 28

Height: 5’7”

 

            There was a photo of her at the top, her face stern, as if she knew he was poking around her personal information. It had only been a glance, but he managed to catch the phrases “anxiety” and “aversion to physical contact”. He immediately looked away. Even he knew he’d overstepped his bounds.

            The door hissed as it slid open, and Roadhog came plodding in behind the medic. She handed Junkrat a pristine white bathrobe, grabbed her tablet, and left with a cheery wave. He sneered at it, but decided to put it on, since the hospital gown would leave even less to the imagination than his ill-fitting shorts.

            “Got all yer things in the washroom. C’mon…” Roadhog huffed. Junkrat folded his arms, well, arm, across his chest.

            “Don’t wanna!” He whined, and scratched at the dry skin on the back of his neck. He was uncomfortable and cross, and while he wanted the itching to stop, he really didn't want to expose himself to water anytime soon. That was not to Roadhog’s liking. He grabbed his skinny friend, hoisting him out of bed.

            “Ya look fuckin’ ridiculous,” he growled. Junkrat caught a glimpse of himself in the shiny glass of a cabinet. The salt water had turned his hair into a frizzy mess of feathery curls. _I look like a bloody clown!_ Junkrat sneered, and let his friend carry him over to the communal showers. Roadhog plopped him down on a changing bench in one of the stalls, where his arm and peg leg, freshly cleaned, waited for him, as well as his freshly-laundered shorts, fresh bandages, and other odds and ends. Hog gave a quick snort, a wordless question as to whether he needed more assistance, but Junkrat waved him off. The burly Junker left the washroom altogether. In the absence of his friend’s labored breaths and stomps, he could hear the water running two stalls over. He wasn't alone, and he knew who was likely in the other stall.

            “Ya doin’ alright, Sym?” He asked. She gave a slight yelp, startled at the sound of his voice.

            “Oh! Yes, I'm fine,” she answered. He left it at that, and wiggled out of the bathrobe and hospital gown, glad to be rid of the ridiculous things. He sat on a bench under the shower head, and cranked the red knob to full blast. He let the water sear his skin, and he reached into the green plastic caddy that had awaited him. There were bottles and bars of soap, and a few other bath-goods. He squinted to read the bottles, never really sure which was supposed to be used where. It was all the same to him. Scrubbing was hard work with only one arm, but he felt he had gotten himself sufficiently clean. He eventually turned off the water, and dried himself off with the towel hung up on the back of the stall door.

            Fully dressed (or as much as he ever would be), with arm and leg now fully attached, he practically skipped out of the stall. At the line of sinks, he began to brush his teeth. The door to Sym’s stall swung open, and she seemed to be rather encumbered. The robe was tucked under her arm. A caddy hung from the crook of her elbow, and her hand wrapped tightly around the handle of a second one. The slippers were tucked under her chin, and she held the handle of a hair brush between clenched teeth. A white towel was sloppily wound on top of her head. She kicked the hospital gown across the floor with her toes as she made her way towards the sinks. The towel came unwound, smacking her in the face, and she quickly dropped everything on the floor. She stood there, staring at the mess around her, and she rubbed her face in frustration.

            “Need a hand?” He asked, and immediately cringed at the unintentional joke. She hunched down, and started picking up the bottles and soap that had spilled across the tile.

            “I suppose you find this amusing?!” came a dejected mumble, and she pushed her damp hair out of her face.

            “I meant, would ya’ like some help…” he offered. She bit her lip, and kept collecting everything. He didn't wait for her to answer, and knelt down beside her, scooping up the slippers, robe, and towel, tossing them on the counter.

            “Thank you.” she mumbled again, when he helped her stand up. She dropped the baskets on the counter, and grabbed her brush, trying to work the tangles out of her hair.

            “Yer still mad at me, ain't ya?” he remarked. She let out a weary sigh.

            “You apologized. It is time for me to accept that it happened, and move on.” she stated. She tried pulling her hair up, but found it too difficult to do with just one hand, so she let it fall down around her shoulders.

            “Ya ain't used ta bein’ armless, are ya? New to it?” He ventured. She started to brush her teeth, and didn't respond until she was done.

            “My gauntlet is water proof and fairly damage-resistant. I've never had a need to take it off until now. I suppose I have grown rather dependent upon it.”.

            “How’d it get all messed up, then?” he asked, genuinely curious. She tried unscrewing a small jar of balm, but couldn't. He absentmindedly grabbed it from her hand and opened the lid for her. She dipped a finger in the balm, and rubbed it over her lips. 

            “A rather large wave pushed us toward some rocks. I tried to brace us. I ended up smashing right into. Thankfully, my gauntlet took the brunt of it. It's a good thing everyone arrived when they did. I don't think I could have kept us afloat much longer,” she recounted. Junkrat shivered involuntarily at the memory of the waves pulling him under, and grimaced.

            “Thanks, by the way. Not really a fan of dyin’ an’ all. S’pose I really was dead there for minute, actually, but woulda’ proper carked it if ya hadn't a been there… surprised ya didn't just let me drown,”. He didn't mean for the last part to come out, but it happened all the same. He grit his teeth at his lack of self-control. He wasn't sure how she felt about it. Her face remained void of emotion.

            “We are team mates. Mad as I was, I couldn't let you die… I didn’t _want_ to see you die,”. The silence between them was punctuated by a stomach growl, and he thanked his lucky stars for the distraction. 

            “Right. We didn't get dinna’ last night. Think I'm about ready f’food. How ‘bout you?” He asked, changing the subject. Talking about it had only reminded him of what he thought were his last moments, when the air left him involuntarily, and the water replaced it. How everything grew dim, and he had resigned himself to death. She glanced at the clean taper of what was left of her arm peeking out from the bottom of her cap-sleeve tunic. 

            “I don't particularly feel like making a spectacle of myself…” she admitted. Empathy was another concept he'd never been too familiar with, but something about her dejected state tugged at a part of him he couldn't quite place. _Ridiculous!_  he thought. Spectacle? She looked amazing! In an effort to not struggle with buttons and zippers, she chose to dress in a simple navy blue tunic-dress, and black leggings. The dress flattered the flair of her hips, and the narrowing of her waist. He liked seeing her hair down, drying into loose waves. Part of him wondered if it felt as silky as it looked. He snorted, hastily undid the prosthetic, and tossed the metal arm onto the counter.

            “There! Now there'll be two spectacles. Safety in numbers!” he grinned. She paused to regard him, and he worried she still might say no. _C’mon, Sym. Let’s give this another shot!_  She hesitantly agreed to walk with him to the mess hall, but took the time to tidy up her things in the washroom, dropping the robes and hospital gowns in laundry bin typically meant for towels. The caddies were placed on a shelf along with everyone else’s.

            “What about your arm?” She asked, as they started towards the door. He shrugged.

            “S’not like it’s goin’ nowhere,” he said, waving it off like it was no big deal. They were the last in line at the hot cases, and Junkrat wasted no time piling a whole breakfast spread on his tray. Sym helped herself to toast, tea, fruit, and yogurt. Carefully balancing her tray against her hip, she instinctively followed him, assuming he'd head to her usual table in the back corner, but instead he head to where Hog, D.Va, and McCree sat. He looked over his shoulder, noticing her tensing up.

            “S’alright…” He murmured under his breath. She seemed to hear him, but it did little to change the look of panic on her face. She was too close to turn away now without everyone noticing.

            “Aw’right, you lot! Bunch up!” He barked, and they followed his request, eyeing a very timid Sym standing behind him. Hog pulled up a couple chairs for them, and took Sym’s tray for her. She gave a small nod of thanks, and sat down. She hid her face behind her cup of tea.

            “Alright, guess I'll be the first ta say it. Nice work, you two!” Jesse drawled, tipping his hat towards the Junker and the Architech. Sym blushed, and Junkrat beamed.

            “Yeah?” He grinned. Despite the drowning, Junkrat got to blow a bunch of shit up, and that always put him in a good mood when he thought about it.

            “Yeah! Only problem is, ya didn't leave much work for the rest of us!” He continued, and had a good laugh at that. It seemed to ease the bit of tension at the table from two days ago.

            “Well, I gotta’ _hand_ it ta’ Sym. She’s a dynamite shot with that funny gun a’hers!” He grinned, waving his own partial arm for emphasis. The group collectively groaned at the bad joke, their eyes too fixated upon the talkative Junker to notice Sym cringe. Junkrat then launched into the full story from start to finish, leaving out the part about their argument. He added in far too many embellishments and one-liners that most definitely didn't happen, but their additions seemed to keep everyone hooked. The lack of attention upon her seemed to relax Sym considerably. She could handle the group in this fashion, if she was merely spectating.

            “So then this Talon wanker, who didn't get the memo ta stay dead, gets the jump on Sym here… no worries, love. Happens ta the best of us, right?” He added with a wink in her direction. She busied herself by biting into her toast, stifling a blush that still hit the tips of her ears. “Right, so I'm havin’ none a that! So we start tusslin’. Creep _strong-arms_ me off the cliff! Sym made short work’a that fuck, though. So, here's where it gets nutty. Course, I can't swim ta save m’self. Fortunately, Sym can, and did! Saw her swan dive right off the edge. Couldn't tell ya what happened after that, but I'm still standin’, so that's somethin’, right?”. 

            “Damn, Sym! Didn't know you were such a badass!” Jesse remarked, seemingly forgetting that he had called her an ice queen two days before. He had never had to work alongside her, and had never seen her in action. Sym dipped a spoon into her yogurt.

            “I have my moments…” she coolly added, and popped the spoon in her mouth. There was another collective laugh, but it didn't make her feel uncomfortable. It felt warm and familiar, like laughter should. Jesse tipped his hat her way again, and even threw in a wink. The conversation changed, and Junkrat noticed a slightly warmer, more at-ease Sym. She didn't say much, but the mere fact that she was still there seemed somewhat amazing. 

            He wouldn't stop with the arm and hand puns, much to everyone’s chagrin. He figured that if he made them enough, she'd finally realize it wasn't something worth being self-conscious of. Hell, half the damn team had prosthetics, including the cowboy sitting across from her! They finally told Junkrat that if he didn't stop with the groan-inducing jokes, he'd have to go sit in a corner. D.Va cut in, mostly in an attempt to get the Junker to stop talking for more than five minutes. She started lamenting that they still hadn't settled on an idea for their next Girls Night Out.

            “I've been wracking my brain trying to think of something to do, but you're clever, Sym! Got any ideas?” she cheerfully asked. A wry smile crossed Symmetra’s face, and she shrugged.

            “I don't know. I'm _stumped_.”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this seemed like a big jump for Sym, that was the intention. Things will be explained from her point of view very soon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sym and Junkrat both get some bad news, but they try to make the best of it.

            Junkrat stomped towards Winston’s office alone. He didn't like it one bit. Lena had come zipping down the hall towards him only moments ago. She appeared chipper enough when she approached him on his way back to his room, clipboard in tow.

            “Oh! Sorry to bother ya love, but Winston asked me ta find ya! Needs ta talk ta ya about the next mission!” She beamed. Junkrat scratched his head.

            “Ain’t even been a day yet. Monkey already got somethin’ else cookin up?” He asked. Lena’s nose wrinkled at the word he used, finding it derogatory.

            “Sorry. Winston. Forgot ya two are best mates, or whateva.” he apologized. He didn't want to go pissing off any other teammates any time soon. He had a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach that it wasn't going to be good news, despite Lena’s initial smile.

            “He’ll explain everything. You two missed the debriefin’ this morning. I think he's just tryin’ ta fill ya in,” she continued, as if nothing happened. Junkrat didn't believe her, but immediately turned towards Winston’s office, giving her a quick wave. Winston was intently focusing on a computer screen when Junkrat walked in. The door was open, but he still knocked on the frame before stepping in.

            “Zippy said ya wanted ta see me, boss?”. It took Winston a moment to realize who he was talking about. Winston closed the screen that was up, and pushed the transparent monitor aside so as not to be a distraction. He motioned for Junkrat to take a seat, and he clicked a button to close the door. It slid closed with a hiss. _Well that's not good!_ Winston pushed his fingertips together in thought.

            “I wanted to congratulate you on yesterday’s success,” the ape started, though his face seemed less than enthused, “you two single-handedly held back enemy forces long enough for us to reach them. We were able to avoid a firefight in the town, and thus spare lives,”. Junkrat gave a lopsided grin, waving the remainder of his arm.

            “Yeah! Single-handedly!” He joked. Winston snorted, and Junkrat could swear he could detect the tiniest twitch of a smile at the corner of the ape’s mouth.

            “We’re fortunate. The village officials have told us that the pass you blew up was derelict anyways, and now they'll have an excuse to repair it, and turn it into something useful.” He explained. Junkrat didn't give two figs about what they did with the pass.

            “Given your exploits yesterday, I wanted to give you and Symmetra a chance to rest uninterrupted, so I didn't bother with including you in the debriefing. You two had witnessed it first-hand, as it was. But it also functioned as briefing for the next mission, which will be a week from tomorrow. We’ve been contracted by a research facility in Paris. The payload we picked up is to be transported to them. Before you ask, I can not tell you what it is. That information is on a need-to-know basis.” Winston interjected, anticipating his curiosity. The answer didn't sate him, though. “Due to the nature of this… delicate operation, I thought it best for you to sit this one out.”.

            There it was. Junkrat immediately scowled, and Winston braced himself for the Junker’s outburst of displeasure. His freshly scrubbed face couldn't hide the red overtaking him, and his amber eyes grew downright molten. A sudden thought occurred to Junkrat, though, and he relaxed just a touch.

            “S’alright, I s’pose. Me an’ Roadie can sit this one out. We’ll hold down the fort here, yeah?” He conceded. Winston sighed.

            “No, Roadhog will be coming with us. We will need as much muscle as we can get without the worry of inadvertently damaging the payload.” Winston explained. This did not sit well with Junkrat at all.

            “This your idea of a fucking joke?”. Winston flinched at the obscenity, which annoyed Junkrat even more. Why the hell was everyone so afraid to swear? Sym never flinched at his language, which struck him as odd, the more he thought about it.

            “I've humored you long enough. You did good work yesterday, but you don't get to call the shots around here. You will not be joining this mission. End of discussion.” he ordered. Junkrat glared at him.

            “I joined you lot ta make some scratch. Can't do that if ya don't let me work, an’ leave me here all by my lonesome.” Junkrat growled. He really didn't care about the money, but it was always a good trump card to fall back on.

            “Your contracts provide a small compensation for any missions you're forced to miss. And no, you won't be left here by yourself. Not after you set the trash can on fire last week. Yes, I know it was you. I have the security footage to prove it. Hana will also not be joining us. She has a large following in Paris, and her celebrity status may bring unwanted attention our way. I am also not sure if Symmetra’s gauntlet will be repaired in time, so she may very well have to sit this one out, too.” Winston explained. Junkrat bit the side of his cheek in thought, trying to think of any other excuse to sway the ape, but Winston dismissed him before he could think of anything. He stomped out of the office, considerably angrier than when he had entered.

            Stewing in negativity, he grumbled through the halls and corridors of the watchpoint. He wasn't sure where he wanted to go. Anywhere away from Winston was fine by him. His wandering brought him near a glassed-in conference room. The lights were on, and he could hear people talking. He couldn't recognize the language. As he got closer, he noticed that Sym was standing towards the front, and she was speaking to a man that Junkrat had never seen before. He seemed very irate, and appeared to be berating her. She stood, tight-lipped, accepting the verbal abuse. It rubbed Junkrat the wrong way. Sure, he had been an ass, but he at least didn't yell at her to her face. Sym gave a quick nod, and the man simply vanished with a blue flash. He realized it had been a very life-like projection. Symmetra let out a pent up breath, and rubbed her temple, exiting the conference room, muttering under her breath words he couldn't understand.

            “Everything alright?” He called, as he caught up to her. The sound of his voice made her jump, and she whirled around.

            “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” she snapped. Junkrat assumed she had heard him coming. He wasn't particularly quiet in anything he did. She appeared extremely agitated.

            “Noted. All the same, everything alright?” He asked again, knowing she'd probably lie and say yes. She sighed, eyes darting to the floor.

            “It's going to take two weeks for Vishkar to build and ship me a new gauntlet and headset. I will be unable to work or perform in the next mission,” she answered. He could tell that wasn't the only issue on her mind, but he wasn't sure if it would be a good idea to press her for more information.

            “Yeah? Well neither am I. _Winston_ says I'll be a liability.” He sympathized. She didn't immediately react to the news, and it sunk in that he was the last to know about this predicament.

            “Well… You _did_ set the rubbish bin on fire last week…” she mused with a smirk. Junkrat rolled his eyes.

            “Oi! I put the damn thing out, right?” He clucked.

            “Yes, but only _after_ you ran off to try and find marshmallows!” she reminded with her own eye roll.

            “Yeah, I was havin’ fun!” He giddily chirped.

            “You think acts of arson are fun?” she asked, confused by the oddity of the man standing in front of her.

            “You ever try it?” he suggested with a chuckle. The raised eyebrow she gave him was very clearly a ‘no’. Her eyes lingered on him for a long time, as her face slowly transitioned from bemused, to one of serious observation. In all honesty, it made him feel a tad uncomfortable.

            “Why don’cha take a picture? It’ll last longer!” He joked. It was an oldie but a goodie. He had waited a long time to use that antique. She seemed to snap herself out of her observations.

            “Somethin’ wrong?” He asked, curiosity piqued. She shook her head slightly, as if dismissing the thought.

            “It’s nothing. I should go. I need to speak with Winston,” she answered, and excused herself. Junkrat scratched his head. _What the hell was that all about?_

_.           .           .           .           ._

 

            He had convinced himself he wasn't going to wallow when the team left without him, but the day rolled around and he sat pouting in the corner of the hangar, watching them load the dropship. He tried convincing Hog to help smuggle him aboard, but the mammoth mercenary growled, and told him to stop acting like a child. He reminded his friend he was a grown-ass man, and if he wanted to stow away, he was more than able to do it on his own. Roadhog merely hoisted Junkrat by his empty grenade harness, and tossed him out of the hangar like a sack of potatoes. It wasn't the first time Roadhog had to physically stop Junkrat from “cocking everything up”, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. The moment the dropship left, he decided to turn to explosives to relieve some boredom, but to add insult to injury it began to downpour.

            He sat in the common room, bouncing his knee in agitation as he watched D.Va play a video game. Even she was annoyed by his antics, and convinced him to try one of her games. First, he tried a racing game. He enjoyed purposefully running into walls, watching his car explode into huge fireballs. Then, he tried some other game involving shooting aliens. D.Va popped in a code to unlock a special grenade launcher, and he was in love. His aim was absolutely terrible, but he didn't really care. At least he got to virtually blow stuff up. Unbeknownst to him, hours had passed, and the only reason he stopped playing was because his good wrist had started to seize up.

            “Fuck, Pipsqueak! How do ya do this for a livin’?” He asked, flexing his cramped hand.

            “Eh, you get used to it. I don't really play competitively anymore, thanks to the Recall. Most of my money is made from endorsements, and guest appearances. Oh! And my fashion line that just launched. You should check it out! Would be nice seeing you in something other than those scuzzy shorts…” she elaborated, scrunching her face at the sight of the patched camouflage.

            “Oi! Don't knock m’trousers! These bad lads have covered my ass since Junkertown!” he shot back. She muttered something under her breath, but he couldn't quite make it out. Junkrat stood up, and stretched the kinks out of his lower back. He couldn't remember the last time he had sat still for so long. Needing to stretch his legs, he decided to wander a bit. An aroma caught him, and it smelled amazing! He couldn't identify the scent, but it was bound to be something food-related, which was odd, because the kitchen drones had been turned off for the day. He pushed through the swinging kitchen doors, trying to locate the source of the aroma, and found it. Sym stood, facing the stove, stirring away at a bubbling pot.

            “Oh my GAWD that smells good!” he moaned, to which Sym shrieked, flinging the ladle in the air. Orange-red sauce splattered across the counter and floor as the ladle fell.

            “I swear to gods, Junkrat! You need to stop sneaking up on me like that!” She snapped.

            “Fuck, yer jumpy!” he chuckled. She heaved a heavy sigh, and grabbed a towel to wipe up the spill.

            “I suppose I was lost in thought,” she murmured, tossing the stained towel into a basket full of dirty aprons, and the fallen ladle into the sink. She washed her hand, and fished a new ladle out of a drawer.

            “Didn't fancy ya a cook,”. Sym stirred the pot some more, and breathed in the aroma of the curry. It seemed to be to her liking.

            “I don't cook very often. I just felt in need of something comforting,” she responded. Junkrat scratched his head. He found all food to be comforting, in that it kept you from starving. She peered at him over her shoulder.

            “Would… would you like some? I got a little carried away, and made more than enough for me,” she offered. _What?_ She had no clue of the impact her simple offer had on Junkrat. In Junkertown, food was scarce, and tolerable at best, but you ate whatever you could get your hands on. No one ever really had enough of it, so if somebody offered to share their meal with you, it was truly a sign of friendship, or comradery. Generosity was a luxury few could afford, and was widely regarded as a symbol of trust. He thought back to the only time anyone had showed him kindness like that, and it didn't have a happy ending.

            “Are you not hungry?” she asked, jarring him from the sad memory.

            “What? No, I'm hungry… Ya sure it's okay?”. She noticed his hesitance.

            “Of course,” she answered, giving him a gentle smile. She grabbed a couple plates down from a cupboard, and started spooning rice from a smaller pot, followed by ladling curry next to it. She handed him the plate, her smile never leaving. He took it from her, staring down at the food.

            “Ya sure it's okay?” he asked again.

            “Yes… is something wrong?”. He shook his head no, but his heart felt heavy. He hadn't felt like that in a long time. She took her own plate, carefully balancing it in her hand, and they head together into the mess hall. He forced the memories back where they belonged, and put on his usual smile.

            “Oh! I should warn you, I made it a tad spicy,” she warned him, but he had already popped a heaping forkful into his mouth. His mouth filled with pins and needles, followed by hellfire. It burned up into his nose, and his eyes immediately began to water. There was a lovely savory undertone. He looked up, tears streaming down his cheeks.

            “Iz zo fuckin’ good!” He sniveled, and he truly meant it. It was the closest he'd ever get to eating an explosion. She chuckled at the red in his face, and a part of her worried he might actually ignite. Sym ate her own portion without breaking a sweat.

            Junkrat ate at a considerably slower rate, savoring every bite. Food, while always appreciated, was normally just something he'd try to consume as quickly as possible. It had been a deeply imbedded habit from his days of living on the run. But there he was, sheltered from the elements, sharing a meal that had been freely given. He felt downright thankful. He never thought it would be something he'd ever experience himself. He closed his eyes in pure bliss.

            “You really must enjoy it. This is the longest I've ever seen you go without speaking. I think I will take that as a compliment,” she mused. Her voice brought him back to reality.

            “Yeah. Yeah, I like it. Wait. No. Fuck that! I love it!” He beamed. Junkrat knew he must have looked stupid, but he didn't care. If Sym hadn't been there, he'd lick the damn plate clean. She chuckled as he finished his last bite, leaving the fork in his mouth much longer than was necessary.

            “That was amazin’, Sym. Really. Can't remember the last time I ate somethin’ like that. Actually, don't think I ever have! How'd ya manage ta do it one-handed?” he asked. His blunt question took her by surprise. She hesitated.

            “Nothin’ to be ‘shamed of,” he reminded. He twiddled his fork between his fingers.

            “I had Lena help me with the preparations last night. Just the parts I knew I wouldn't be able to do. I am slowly growing used to this, though I am eager for my new gauntlet to arrive. I've been unable to work without it, and I fear I've been rather useless as of late. I suppose that's why I decided to do some cooking. It made me feel useful,” she explained. Junkrat mulled her words over. 

            “Ain't used to askin’ for help.” He observed.

            “….not really.” her reply came hesitantly.

            “Important part of teamwork, doncha’ think?”. Symmetra seemed surprised by his astute observation, and frankly, even he was a little taken-aback by the words coming out of his mouth. They weren't like him at all.

            “Well… if ya ever need more help… just let me know, yeah?”. Symmetra studied his face. He had managed to stay relatively clean since his shower, much to his chagrin. Nobody would shut up about the clean Junker, but for some reason it didn't bother him at that moment that she was looking.

            “I could use some help with the dishes.”.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Symmetra spends her day lost in thought as she awaits the arrival of her new gauntlet. She also discovers a few surprises in the work room.

            Symmetra’s morning began like many others since she had accepted the Recall. She had woken at 5:30, and quickly thrown on her running shorts and top. She wiggled on her shoes, and managed to knot them sufficiently. _A few more hours of this. I'll have my gauntlet this afternoon._ She made her way out to the track, and the sky was already transitioning from inky blue, to violet, with touches of red. She stretched, clearing her head of any stressors that tried to creep in, and took off at a steady pace.

            She timed her breaths. She could see the look of panic on Junkrat’s face when he fell. She closed her eyes, willing the image away. A pair of mourning doves cooed to eachother. She went back to timing her breaths. Sanjay’s disappointed face reared up. “I cannot believe you'd be so careless with our technology, Vaswani!”. She pushed that image aside, too. _Focus._ “Sym, I know it's not my place, but I can't help but feel you're hiding away. If we’re to work as a cohesive unit, you need to push your boundaries and let people in.” Angela’s voice echoed from two months ago. Sym hissed an exhale, and picked up her pace.

            She turned her gaze towards the north tower. Four stories up, the window to the build team workshop reflected the clouds. She hadn't set foot in there since before their last mission. She cringed at what deplorable state she'd find it in when she went back tomorrow. _No! Stop thinking about him! Focus on something! Focus on breakfast!_ Breakfast. She'd have an omelet, fruit, tea… maybe a muffin. Maybe she'd linger long enough for the others to enter the mess hall. In truth, she appreciated the friendly chatter amongst everyone, even if she couldn't bring herself to be a part of it. Except for the day Junkrat forced her to be a part of it. Damn him. She should have paid attention to where she was going, but she had gotten too close to the table to turn away without making it awkward. He reassured her it'd be alright, and it had been a surprisingly… positive experience. It still had been too much too soon for her liking. _You're thinking about him again_.

            She had made four laps before the sun crept over the horizon. Its light only seemed to amplify the stagnant air around her. If it was already that hot and humid at dawn, she grimaced at the thought of how horrible the afternoon would be. She should wear short sleeves. She could feel the sweat dripping down her, and cringed. She hated sweating. The image of him drenched in sweat, a pained face, talking in his sleep with bared teeth welled up where it didn't belong. No one deserved to hurt so much in their sleep. Sleep was for rest and release. With a mere touch, his face had settled to something gentle, at peace. And then, off she ran, much the same as she had at that moment. _Stop it!_ She came to an abrupt halt mid-lap. It was apparent that running today was not going to clear her head as it usually did. She turned, and head back to her room to grab a change of clothes. Perhaps she'd have better luck in the shower. 

            Upon returning to her room, she took a moment to check her tablet for messages. There was one from the previous night that had been sent after she had gone to bed. It was from Angela.

            **Apologies, Sym. I will be taking part in a medical conference tomorrow. I know it's sudden, but I will not be able to take you into town. I believe Hana has a vehicle on base. Worst case scenario, I believe Roadhog has a motorcycle. - Angela**

            Sym sighed. _Oh, she HAS to be joking!_ Motorcycles were loud and unsafe, and there was no way she'd ride out clinging to Roadhog’s back. She didn't dislike the man. He was quiet, and seemed to be the only person Junkrat would listen to, but all the same, she didn't want to get covered in his sweat, of which she was sure there was plenty. Not to mention the stares she'd likely get hopping off the back of the motorcycle with a leather-clad giant in tow. She crossed her fingers that Hana would be available.

            A quick shower did little to ease her tension, though it felt good to rinse off the sweat. Mei had just blundered into the showers when Sym was leaving. The climatologist gave her a polite wave, and Sym decided to try her.

            “Mei, you don't happen to have a vehicle here, do you?” She asked.

            “Oh! No. You can maybe try Hana, or… the Junkers. I hear their motorcycle has a side car.” She answered, popping off her glasses. Mei always seemed to make herself scarce when either of them were around. Particularly Junkrat.

            “If Hana says no, I think you'd be better off walking!” She cryptically added. Sym thanked Mei for her time, and left the washroom. She wasn't the first to breakfast. Winston sat towards the center, sipping a smoothie. She assumed peanut butter and banana. He gave her a quick wave in greeting, but went back to pouring over the paperwork in front of him. She took her time eating, waiting for the others to arrive. _Not like I have anything better to do…_  She couldn't focus on the technical manual in front of her, so she clicked her tablet to try and find something more entertaining. She settled for Flatland. 

            It was a long time before the mess hall filled with people. Hana, of course, was one of the last ones to arrive, and Junkrat came lumbering in after her. They seemed to be in the middle of a conversation. He said something to her, which she found hilarious. She started laughing uncontrollably. Sym wished she could be that carefree, that someone would just tell her jokes, and she could laugh at them. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. _Jealousy is weakness. I am better than that,_ she reminded herself, but it didn't seem to make her feel better. Hana snagged a table, and he came following behind her. He scanned the room for a moment, and looked in Sym’s direction. He gave her a small wave, but ended up sitting with Hana. _Jealousy is weakness._ She took in a breath to strengthen her resolve, and rose from her seat. She walked towards Hana’s table.

            “Good morning,” she greeted, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. It did not come naturally to her. If Hana noticed the forced cheer, she didn't indicate it. She simply beamed a smile.

            “Hiya! Wanna’ sit?” she offered, pushing out a chair with her foot. Sym hesitated, but took the seat. She did not want to seem ungrateful. Junkrat stared, slack jawed, but seemed to smile when she sat down.

            “I hope the morning finds you well,” _Too formal. She is 19. Try to be… not so professional_.

            “Oh yeah! Well, I just got up. Late night. Tried teaching Rat Boy how to aim. He broke my controller…” she answered, eyeing Junkrat with feigned annoyance.

            “I said I’ll fix it!” He snipped, biting into toast. Hana held up a bag, and gave it a jiggle. It sounded like shattered bits of plastic and circuitry.

            “How did you manage to… never mind. I don't think I want to know,” Sym started.

            “I'm a man of many talents!” he shrugged, as if that was a sufficient answer. Sym couldn't suppress a smirk.

            “I'm beginning to see that,” she replied, and to her utter surprise, underneath the layer of soot that crested his cheeks, Sym noticed a touch of pink.

            “It’s no big deal, though. I'll just pick one up in town. I think there's a shop, anyways. If not, I'll just order one.” she said. This gave Sym a great opportunity for a tactful switch in conversation.

            “Would you be going today? And if so, would you be willing to give me a ride? I am to meet a courier this afternoon. He has my new gauntlet and headset from Vishkar, and my original ride plans fell through,” she asked. Hana seemed a little surprised by the request.

            “Oh! Yeah! I can give you a ride! Sure thing! When would we need to leave?” She asked. Sym was thankful this had progressed as smoothly as it did.

            “I need to meet the courier at two. I could purchase you a new controller in payment,” Sym offered. Hana waved her hand.

            “No no, it's no problem! Honest!”. The plans were finalized, and Sym left the table in high spirits. She had asked for help with little difficulty. She had maintained a normal(ish) conversation with somebody very unlike herself, and it didn't feel overly forced. The day was beginning to pick up.

.           .           .           .           .

 

            “I really do appreciate this, Hana. Walking in this heat would have been unbearable.” Sym repeated as she buckled herself in.

            “Hey, no problem! Let's crank some AC and ride in style!” Hana chirped. They started driving, and Sym tried to think of things to say, realizing how awkward the silence had become.

            “Have you got any new puzzle games?” she ventured after several silent minutes. It was one memory they shared.

            “No, not really. They're not my strong-suit. I'm more of an RTS or FPS fan, myself.” she replied. _I have no idea what that means._

            “Ah… Do you enjoy living and working here?”. Hana thought about it.

            “Yeah. It's a bit secluded, but it's nice being away from paparazzi. Plus, I really like working with everyone, y’know? Everybody’s super nice. We're like one big family.”. _Family?_ Sym thought about it. She had never felt that kind of bond at Vishkar, and certainly never in her hazy recollection of her childhood.

            “What about you?” Hana’s simple question set her heart suddenly racing. What about her? How did she feel?

            “…it is a considerable transition from what I am used to. Vishkar operates far differently. I do find the work more rewarding, I suppose. We cannot bring order without stopping chaos, first.” She explained. _Too long. That was not a good thing to say._ Symmetra was confident in a lot of things. Her work and knowledge, her sense of right and wrong, her appearance and physical fitness. Socializing, however, always made her terribly self-conscious, particularly with people so unlike herself, and she loathed the feeling of being unsure.

            “So, is everything cool between you and Rat Boy?” She piped up, and Sym’s heart gave a painful lurch. _Why would you ask me this?!_ Hana waited patiently for her answer, as Sym tried to work up something to say.

            “… I think so. We seem to have made amends. We shall see what happens tomorrow when I am able to go back to work. It has been a source of... tension.” she replied, hoping the answer would suffice.

            “Good. Because I think he didn't mean to be such a jerk at first. I bet he was having a hard time adjusting. Didn't know how to handle it, y’know? He told me this morning this is the longest he's stuck around anywhere since leaving Australia.”. Sym grimaced at that. _I wasn't particularly welcoming or accepting, though it's nice to know others found his behavior inappropriate._

            “You two seem to be close,” Sym remarked. Hana simply shrugged, as though that were answer enough.

            “So, Rat Boy said you're a good shot. Took out every creep you pointed your gun at. What's your secret for accurate aiming? Can't imagine you practiced with games like me.”. _She does like to jump between topics._

            “The secret is quite simple. Shut everything out. Focus on the task at hand.” She answered. Hana merely nodded in response, and checked the GPS screen on her dashboard.

            “Okay, looks like we’re here. You were meeting at the cafe, right? Looks like there's a game store a block over. I'm just going to run by there really quick, and I'll meet you back here. Sound good?” Sym agreed, as Hana parked. She had pulled in crooked, and Sym clenched her jaw. _She was kind enough to give you a ride. Don't ask her to straighten out._ With some effort, she willed herself to ignore the glaring error. The two parted ways, and Sym entered the cafe. The clock on the wall read 1:43. She got in line, and ordered an iced tea. The cafe was packed, but she managed to find an empty table where people weren't too bunched in.

            The clock struck two, and the door swung open. Vishkar couriers were always on time. In an effort to appear inconspicuous, he had donned a violet button-down shirt, gray slacks, and a matching gray tie. It didn't stop people from noticing the two large metal cases he carried. Sym internally grimaced at the heads turning her way when the man sat at her table. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He clicked it a couple times, bringing up a spot for her to sign. She used the tip of her finger, and frowned at how sloppy her signature looked.

            “As per the terms of your arrangement, Mr. Korpal has asked that you refrain from opening these cases in public,” he needlessly reminded. She nodded her agreement, and the man took his leave. She waited for Hana to join her, and was thankful when only a few moments later, she walked through the door. A shopping bag hung off her elbow, and it appeared she had found more than just a replacement controller. She gave Sym a quick wave and popped in line to order. A few minutes later, she walked up with a bright pink drink with black orbs floating in it. Sym raised an eyebrow.

            “What on earth is that?” Sym asked, pointing at the alien-looking beverage. Hana gave her a wink and a smile while she sipped.

            “Strawberry milk tea with boba. Didn't think they'd have it here.” she answered, and took another sip. Sym watched as she sucked a couple of black beads up through the wide straw. Hana looked at the cases resting next to their table.

            “Arn’t you going to put your arm back on?” she bluntly asked.

            “Oh….um… No. I have to wait until we get back… it will need to be calibrated,” she fibbed. She'd rather not discuss Vishkar policy at that moment. The answer seemed to placate Hana.

            “Oh yeah! I almost forgot! I got you something!” She started, fishing into the bag. She pulled out a game case.

            “Got you a different puzzle game. I've read reviews for it. I guess it's the toughest one yet. Might actually prove to be a challenge for you!” she said, adding another wink. She dug into the bag some more, and pulled out a bright blue controller.

            “This too! It's off-brand, but I thought you might like the color. It lights up, too!” she said, with a beaming smile, holding the gifts out to her. Sym took them hesitantly.

            “Hana! This is… very kind of you. You didn't have to go to the trouble…” But Sym’s words were cut off by Hana waving them off.

            “Sym, it's all cool! Just thought you might like to play in your downtime. Maybe we can play together again sometime,”. A warm feeling knit through Sym. She was touched by the kindness.

            “Thank you Hana. I would like to return the favor. If there's anything you have in mind, please don't hesitate to…”

            “Come to Girls Night!” she interrupted. _Oh… This was her plan all along._

            “You… you don't have to. Just thought it'd be nice. You missed the one last week, so you have some time to think about it. We haven't even decided on a place yet. We could go somewhere without alcohol, too, if that'll make you more comfortable…” Hana offered. Sym mulled it over while watching a bead of condensation drip down the side of her iced tea. _It would help to foster a closer bond with my teammates, and certainly relieve some tension. And if I don't enjoy myself, I will at least feel better having made the effort…_  Sym took in a deep breath.

            “I think… I think I will take you up on this offer, actually.” Sym said, with a slight tremor in her voice that she hoped Hana wouldn't notice. “I do enjoy wine.” She added as an afterthought.

            “Aw, really?! That's awesome! I think I know a place you might like. Little wine bar, good food, quiet little place! Sound good?”. Hana seemed ecstatic. Normally that sort of bubbly energy would have been a bit much for her to tolerate, but the young woman’s genuine warmth and sincerity touched Sym.

            “I think that sounds lovely.”

.           .           .           .           .

 

            It was 3:22, and Sym couldn't fall back to sleep. Try as she might, she tossed and turned, and she couldn't understand why. She had her gauntlet back. It fit perfectly, and it even seemed to be a little more powerful. She felt whole again. Perhaps the day out had been too much for her. No. That wasn't it. She found her conversation with Hana had actually helped her ignore the people around her. They were just two friends enjoying an afternoon. Her morning had started out rough. She acknowledged that, but she had managed to shut out and compartmentalize the images and memories that had weighed so heavily on her mind. She thought about going into the workshop tomorrow, and a small knot of dread began to form. Maybe that was it; the worry of what disaster lay waiting for her. She breathed a heavy sigh. Maybe if she just took a peek, she wouldn't be so worried for the next morning. She hopped out of bed, and pulled a burgundy robe over her nightgown. She slid her feet into matching slippers, and padded silently into the halls,

            The halls were dark and silent. As she passed the doors of the other dormitories, she could almost make out the sounds of stirring and sleeping. Zarya was snoring rather loudly, and Sym stifled a laugh at her expense. For all she knew, maybe she snored, too. As Sym wandered, she found the emptiness to be a bit more unnerving than usual. _Perhaps I have grown used to the sounds of having these people around._ She came out of the elevator onto the fourth floor, and head towards the workshop. Her hand hesitated before she opened it. She could tell by the light at her toes that somebody had left the lights on. She clicked the switch, and the door hissed open.

            The workshop was by no means clean, but she was surprised to find that it was nowhere near as bad as she had expected. It appeared that somebody had at least attempted to tidy up. A pile of dust had been swept up. Scrap and parts had been pushed to a back corner, out of the way. Torbörn’s station was rather neat, and Junkrat’s… well… she supposed it was as close to acceptable as it was ever going to get. She looked back at her own station, and noticed a vase filled with tastefully-arranged pink roses. A small card stuck out of the vase, and she opened it. She recognized Torbörn’s blocky handwriting.

**Sym: Glad to have you back. Please don't ever leave me alone with him for that long ever again. He never shuts up! -T**

 

            At this, she let out a chuckle. She could only imagine the look on Torbörn’s face as Junkrat did gods-know-what in lieu of actual work. She pulled out her chair to take a quick seat, and sat on something that felt like paper. She fished it out from underneath her. It was a card in an envelope. The envelope was tattered and smudged with sooty fingerprints. _Goodness. I wonder who this one is from!_ She mused with a smirk. She opened the envelope, and pulled out what had to have been a hand-made card. There was a drawing of a cute kangaroo sporting a goofy grin. “Back to work? Better hop to it!” She opened the card up. In Junkrat’s erratic chicken-scratch, there was also a note.

**Sym: Happy to have you back. Please don't ever leave me alone with him for that long ever again. He never stops telling me to shut up! -JR**

**PS: I got you a flower, too.**

 

            She raised an eyebrow at the post-script, and upon further inspection noticed something rather strange tucked amongst the rose stems. Hastily stuffed in the center of the bouquet stood a single scraggly daisy, clearly plucked from the patch of weeds outside.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sym and Lena play spy on a mission, but something about it doesn't feel right. Junkrat makes a special gift for Sym.

            “New intel arrived this morning, and I want to act upon this as swiftly as possible.” Winston started the briefing. Junkrat sat towards the back, as he had on the first day that he had arrived. That morning had marked a month and a half for the Junkers. He bounced his knee repeatedly in anticipation, until Roadhog gave him a nudge, and he switched to rolling a coin over his knuckles instead. If his hands were busy, maybe his mind would focus. It only seemed to marginally help.

            “Our sources have identified a point of interest out in the Egyptian desert. On the ground level, it appears to be an abandoned construction sight, but thermal scans have shown that there's a massive cooling unit below ground, and there have been reports of suspicious activity. We believe it is a data storage center, and most likely Talon.”

            “Data storage? As in servers? That technology is beyond obsolete!” Mei piped up.

            “Exactly. No one uses those old networks anymore, so anyone who does would remain relatively unnoticed. Our sources have been monitoring this point for some time. It appears to be guarded by about thirty sentries, and possibly some drones.” 

            “So what, ya wanna just scrap it? Shouldn't be too hard.” Junkrat sniggered.

            “Ultimately, yes, but not before we try and retrieve any more intel. It's data storage. There is most likely valuable information there. The plan is for us to draw them out so two of you can go in and hopefully extract anything useful with this.” Winston explained, holding up what looked like a small black stick.

            “It’s a memory unit retrofitted to work with older systems. I need whoever goes in to be quick and quiet. I'm not looking for you to fight. Get in, get what you can, and get out. Any volunteers?” Winston offered.

            “I will go. I've experience with infiltration, and I believe my teleporter design will prove useful,” Sym called from the front. Junkrat’s stomach dropped. It didn't sit right with him, and he didn't know why. Winston nodded his approval.

            “Anyone else?”.

            “I’ll go, too. I'd like ta see those creeps try an’ keep up with me!” Lena piped up. Winston approved again.

            “Then that settles it. After you two make a safe return, we’ll destroy the facility. We leave tomorrow, bright and early. I'll have more details for you all in flight. Pack everything you can. Tomorrow is going to be a long one. Dismissed.” Sym stuck around to speak with Winston, and everyone seemed to scatter. Junkrat lingered outside the meeting room, but when it became apparent she wasn't coming out anytime soon, he head back to the workshop to pack.

            Sym had been back for just over a week, and things seemed to have evened out between the two. It was by no means an ideal situation, but progress had been made on both parts. He made sure to keep his jokes lighthearted, and not at her expense. Cleanliness was something he knew he'd never be able to improve upon, though he tried to prevent the mess from sliding into her workspace. Sym kept her criticisms constructive, for the most part, and she no longer made her judgments visibly apparent. 

            He strapped a couple more grenades to his harness, stuffed his various pouches and packs to the gills, and checked on his RIPtire. The damn thing was heavier than he had remembered. His sedentary lifestyle was starting to make him soft. _Guess I should take up ol’ Reinhardt’s gym offer._

            Sleep was not going to happen, which was fairly business-as-usual for him. Typically, he was plagued with a thousand and one ideas that he'd end up scribbling into a notebook, but it wasn't ideas or schematics keeping him up. It was worry, and he hadn't felt that since they were on the run. It frustrated him. Why now? _She's gonna get herself killed… Naw, she knows what she's doing, right? What did she mean by experience? What the fuck was she doing at Vishkar? This whole thing feels like a trap… Who are these sources? Can we trust them?… Why the fuck do I even care?… She's gonna get herself killed._ It was a vicious loop, and there was no way he was going to snap out of it anytime soon.

            He turned on the light to the small lab that had been set aside for mixing his compounds. He really didn't need to make anything. His stockpile could feasibly last him a couple months at the current rate of action, but he needed something to do. He fished into a drawer, and pulled out a well-worn notebook, or as he called it, his cook book. He thumbed through the pages, most of which he had committed to memory. An idea struck him, and he immediately set to work. He hoped he had blue paint.

.           .           .           .           .

 

            The dropship was abuzz with chatter. Final preparations were underway as the aircraft began to descend. Symmetra remained in her seat, going through the teleporter design in her head one more time. It was one of her trickier designs, and one she’d wished she was better-practiced with. Her hands sculpted the light, forming the shape of the base. She wished she could quell the nervous knot forming in her stomach. Her stomach growled. She had been far too anxious to eat any breakfast before heading out.

            _Why did I agree to do this?_ This was different from Vishkar. With Vishkar, she had infiltrated offices, labs, businesses. Places that had minimal security, and most of which didn't even utilize any lethal weaponry. She had blueprints, schematics, research, plans. Here she was, going in blind with only a blurry thermal scan, and an eager Tracer against terrorists ready to kill. She breathed. _Do not focus on what stands in your way. You will succeed,_  she reminded herself.

            A familiar tattoo came pattering over the chatter. First, a slow deep base, and then a quicker stomp and click. She didn't need to look up to know who was walking by.

            “I'm tellin’ ya, Hog. I locked everything down tight! Nothin’s gonna’ come rollin’ out. We took off safe enough, right?” he tried to appeal to his friend. They passed her by, heading towards the lower level where supplies where stored. She breathed a small sigh of relief. She was nervous enough. She didn't need him to come wind his way up into her head before the mission. The bass kept going, but the stomp-click came to a halt. _So much for that_ , and she let out a much different sigh.

            “I'll be there in a second, mate.” He called, waving Hog on. Roadhog made his way down to the lower level. Junkrat backed up, and stood in front of her, reaching up to grasp a pipe for momentary support.

            “Mind if I sit down a minute? Got somethin’ for ya’.” He asked. His face was hard to read. A tempting smile crossed his lips, but his eyes held something else. Sadness? Not quite. Worry. _Why is he worried?_ She nodded yes. He sat down to her right, leaned forward, and rubbed his chin in concentration.

            “Nervous?” He asked.

            “Not really.” _I'm terrified._

            “You done this sorta’ thing before?”.

            “Yes… Well… Not quite like this. It is much higher-risk.”. He reached towards his belt, and she could hear a jingle. He turned back, holding a small black pouch.

            “I know it is. S’why I made ya these.” He said, giving the pouch a small shake. She took the bag in her hands. It felt slightly heavy. Caution told her it wasn't safe. Curiosity wanted to know. Curiosity won. She opened up the pouch, and reached inside. She felt several metal spheres rolling around. She picked one up, holding it between her thumb and forefinger. It was bright blue, had a maniacal grin donning sunglasses painted on it, and a short fuse.

            “You… gave me bombs?!” She hissed in panic. Of course he would! Why wouldn't he? She started to hand them back, but his hands cupped over hers, holding them in place over her knees for a moment. His skin was warm, but rough and callused. A tremor lanced through her, and she didn't even care about the soot stains he was sure to leave behind. His grin held a hint of smugness.

            “Not quite. Nothin’ that’ll blow ya ta bits, anyways. Didn't think ya’d like that. But don't let their size fool ya. These lovelies are real dazzlers!” he explained, and slowly pulled his hands away. _Why is he giving me these?_ She cupped the sphere between her hands. The pouch remained in her lap.

            “You're worried?” She asked.

            “Not really,” he said, repeating her words back to her, but his eyes said otherwise. “But I was thinkin’ ‘bout the last time. Got real lucky. Well, up till the end, and even that was pretty lucky, too.”. She tucked the sphere back in the pouch.

            “You get in a spot, light one of those pretties, and throw it behind ya. Don't look back. They're bright as hell and twice as loud. Might even mess with any bots. Ya got a light?”. Sym held out her palm. The light glowed, and a small flame floated above it. It was the first thing she learned to do with her gauntlet.

            “Perfect,” he said, standing back up. He gave her a two-finger salute, and head back to join Roadhog. She clutched the pouch in her lap. _Why are you doing this now?!_  Her hand was still warm.

.           .           .           .           .

 

            “I don’t like this. This was too easy.” Lena whispered. Sym couldn't agree more. Upon landing, Winston had them crowd into the back of semi. She didn't get a chance to get a good look at the driver, but Winston had spoken with the woman for quite some time. They head out, driving for about an hour. The truck, thankfully, had air conditioning and lighting. Upon arriving at the drop off, Sym had left a teleporter base in the back. The truck took off, doubling back. It would swing around off-road, and remain hidden amongst the dunes. Angela stayed behind for anyone needing medical assistance.

            It was a mile hike through sand and gravel to find the construction site. It appeared to have been a skyscraper in the works. A small shed remained off to the side, but Sym was not fooled. Her visor showed that it seemed to go deep into the ground. An elevator shaft, no doubt. She and Lena had split from the group at that point, hiding behind a stack of girders. Her visor highlighted what she had been looking for. A metal tube stuck out of the ground. Air in-take, and that meant there was probably a tunnel below. Lena placed one of her little sticky bombs, but waited to detonate it. They needed the distraction, and boy did they get it! Reinhardt ran towards the shed, and smacked his colossal hammer down onto the ground. Even from a hundred yards away, the two would-be spies could feel the ground shake a little.

            Her assumptions had been correct. A light came from within the shed. The doors slid open, and security agents came pouring out. The firefight was almost instantaneous, and in the cacophony of gunfire, Sym heard the distinct hyena-like cackle of a very excited Junker. The noise covered up the sound of the sticky bomb perfectly. The two had hopped down the small hole it created, and tried to locate where the actual servers were.

            Lena was correct. It had been far too easy. She zipped ahead of Sym, blinking in and out to get a better look ahead, and would back up to rejoin her. She managed to locate a stairwell, and from the hum beneath their feet, they thought they were getting close.

            “It's probably several flights down. Something like this requires a robust cooling system, and it's only growing louder the more we descend,” Sym explained in a hushed voice. Lena blinked out, flashed back several floors down, and came back in an instant.

            “There’s a door down there, but it's locked. Needs a keycard. Still no signs of anybody.” She whispered. Sym reached towards her holster, grabbing her photon projector. Her hand bumped the small black pouch Junkrat had given her. She didn't know why, but it brought a small amount of comfort knowing it was there. It shouldn't have, but it did. She began to charge her weapon.

            Sym focused the projector on the keycard reader. The little light above it switched from red to green, and the sounds of a heavy lock clicked, opening up the door. Lena told her to wait a moment, and ran ahead. She doubled back in an instant.

            “Think I found it. Buncha’ towers all wired and lit up. That's what we’re lookin’ for, right?”. Sym nodded, but worry threaded through her. Where were the security cameras? Why just a simple keycard lock? Those were incredibly easy to bypass. And no signs of any security? She followed behind Lena, weaving through columns of servers.

            She wasn't sure what she was exactly looking for. The tech in front of her where downright antiques. The only person who may have even been alive to see them first-hand was Reinhardt, and even then, he'd probably been only a child when humanity moved onward to more efficient means of communication and data storage. Lena popped in front of her in a flash, causing her heart to skip a beat.

            “I found a door!” She whispered, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the cooling fans, and she took off at a slow (for Lena) sprint. Sym kept pace, and silently thanked herself for maintaining her morning exercises. There was indeed a metal sliding door. This one had both a keycard scanner, and a palm scanner. Two forms of easily-bypassed security. Hard light could unlock most things, which was why no one outside of Vishkar was allowed to utilize it. Not that their tech hadn't fallen into the wrong hands before. Sym shook the memory out of her head. _Now is not the time to think about Rio_.

            Her photon projector made short work of the locks, and she held off to the side as the door slid open. Lena darted in with a flash and immediately darted out. She grabbed Sym’s wrist, and pulled her away in a run. She was surprisingly strong for somebody so spindly!

            “Drones!” She breathlessly hissed, and Sym’s blood ran cold. Drones were fast, and powerful. They were tough to destroy, too. She wondered if Junkrat’s flash bombs would actually work on them. He said they might mess with the bots. Might.

            “They're not following. Did they target you?” She asked. Lena shook her head no.

            “Don't think so. Think I was too fast for them ta properly register. I have a small EMP device, but that might take out the computer I saw inside. There were four of them in there. I'm quick on the draw, but I don't know if that'll be enough to take them all out.”. Sym took a steadying breath.

            “I have an idea.”. She quietly crept back towards the open door. She reached into the pouch, procuring one of the blue orbs. Lena stared at it.

            “Bombs?!” She silently mouthed. Sym shook her head no.

            “Flash and noise!” She mouthed back, and lit the fuse. She quickly rolled it through, and she and Lena took cover on the other side of the door, squinted their eyes shut, and covered their ears. Even with that, bright light burned through her closed eyelids, and even with the headset, there was a very audible pop. Lena seemed to have been affected by it. She shook her head to get the ringing out of her ears, but she darted in, and returned a millisecond later.

            “Bloody hell, I think that worked!” She loudly whispered. She and Sym snuck in together. Lena had her guns at the ready while Sym ran up to the outdated console. She fished the data stick out of her pouch, and popped it in the appropriate drive. It was simple enough to operate. She just had to wait for the light to change from orange to blue. The screen, that had been backlit with mindless code, gave a quick flicker. That didn't sit well with her, but she reminded herself it was old tech, and probably faulty. The light was still orange. _Come on! These drones might come back any…_

            “ **INTRUDERS DETECTED!”** The drones piped in unison, and the two ducked below the metal desk as bullets came right at them. Her heart slammed in her chest, and she could feel the familiar fire of adrenaline begin to burn through her. Lena dashed off, forming a distraction. She was fast, and the bots’ aiming calibration couldn't seem to keep up with her. Sym looked up. From where she was crouched, she could just make out the light on the data stick. It was still orange. _ComeOnComeOnComeOn!_ The light flickered to blue, and she immediately snatched it. A bullet ricocheted off the metal of the desk, far too close to her hand. She quickly pocketed the device, and gave Lena an okay signal. Sym began to form the base of the teleporter, but the increasing gunfire made concentration difficult. Lena seemed to notice her struggling, and snatched her wrist again.

            “We’ll find a different spot!” She shouted, and the two dove through the door as fast as they could. The drones were coming after them. Sym fished out another flash, lit it, and threw it behind her. The flash was much brighter and louder with it being in such close proximity, and though her ears rang, and blobs of light temporarily blinded her, the two kept running, not daring to look back to see if it had worked a second time. There was a temporary cease in gunfire, but when the wringing in their ears dissipated, they could hear the sounds of multiple feet hitting the concrete floors. Bursting into the server room, about ten black-clad Talon guards came chasing in.

            “Back the way we came?!” Lena suggested, and Symmetra nodded. There was no way she could concentrate long enough to open a teleporter now! They found the stairwell, and climbed as quickly as they could, taking two steps at a time. The soldiers hit the bottom of the stairs, and fired upwards. Sym quickly shot at them, but in her haste, her aim had been off. Lena zipped behind, and unleashed a few rounds, hitting a couple men in the shoulders and legs. Nothing lethal, but it tripped them up long enough to put some distance in between them. They found the floor they were looking for, and ran back down the tunnel. The soldiers had caught up to them just as they were reaching their entrance point. Symmetra held out her hands, giving Lena a leg up into the hole. She clambered up, and then held her hand out. Sym jumped, and caught her grip. Lena struggled to pull her up. Gunfire began, and Sym felt a searing pain in her right thigh, but she managed to find a grip, and pulled herself up out of the tunnel.

            Lena waste no time. She reached into Sym’s pouch, grabbing another flash, and Sym quickly lit it. Lena lobbed it down the hole, and there was a momentary stop to the footfalls. She used the time it bought to drag her across the sand to the relative safety of the steel girders, and zipped back, lobbing down some of her own sticky grenades. Symmetra saw the trail her blood left in the sand; a streak of black in the moonlight. The pain stretched up through her hips and into her lower back. She'd never been shot before, and she sure as hell wasn't a fan of it. The adrenaline seemed to help dull the pain the tiniest bit. Lena ran back to her, and immediately got on her headset.

            “We’re out, but teleporting wasn't an option! Sym’s been shot! Could use a little assistance!” She shouted into the headset. Sym turned her own headset back on to catch the chatter on their channel.

            “What’s your position?” Winston roared back.

            “Northeast corner! Behind the beams!” Lena called back.

            “I'm on it!” came a familiar cackle. Sym switched her headset back off. It was all too much, and she was in an excruciating amount of pain. A couple minutes ticked by, and the sound of gunfire echoed in the distance. The team had apparently drawn them off fairly far. There was a loud bang not too far behind them, and Sym could see something arcing over the stack of girders. It looked like a person. _Oh for the love of…_ He landed face-first into the sand, and flopped over in an ungainly somersault. His head popped out of the sand, and he beamed a big toothy grin.

            “G’day!”.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an effort to help Sym, Junkrat makes a very bad decision, and Mama Mercy is none too pleased.

            Reinhardt smacked the ground with a thundering whack of his hammer, and Junkrat nearly toppled over. It wasn't long before the steel shed lit up. The doors opened, and black-clad sentries came pouring out like a swarm of hornets. Thirty sentries? Those numbers were way off! Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tracer and Symmetra off in the distance. Well, he assumed it was them. It was dark, and all he saw were two slender shadows dipping off behind a pile of steel beams. 

            The fire fight that ensued was, well, a blast! Reinhardt swatted them away with very little effort. Junkrat fired grenades wildly into the mass. He didn't have to aim. Anywhere in the general vicinity seemed to do. The key was to lead them on and away from the safety of the levels below. Draw them off. Make them drop their guard so Sym and Tracer could get in and out. If the team was too effective, Talon would simply hole back up into the data center. With some self-control, everyone seemed to be offering a nice balance.

            DVa came rocketing across the sand in her Meka. He had never seen it in full action, and he had to admit it was pretty fun to watch. Her back was vulnerable, though, and a couple agents attempted to clamber up from behind.

            “Okay, will somebody get these scrubs off my back?” Her voice squeaked over the headset. That was something he was trying to get used to. He'd never had to wear one before, and he was amazed it still remained on his head. Hog swung his chain over his head, and flung it overhand, hooking both agents. With a hard tug, he yanked them off.

            “Thanks Piggy!” she called back. Hog wasted no time putting his shrapnel gun to use, finishing them off.

            “I’m hoppin’ on, Pipsqueak! Don't go buckin’ me off!” Junkrat warned, and before she could protest he jumped up, hooking his hand on a nearby grab bar. From there, he launched more grenades in every direction, and the two made quite the pair.

            “Onward, noble steed! We ride to vict’ry!” he crowed.

            “Oh my god, this is the stupidest thing I've ever done!” she shouted, and the two went tearing off towards another throng of agents. An icicle whizzed past his head, and he could feel the cold graze his face.

            “Oi! Watch where ya aim that thing, Fuzzball!” he growled at Mei. It was most definitely a pot-calling-the-kettle-black situation, as he kept firing wildly into the fray.

            “Sorry! Sorry sorry!” she apologized over the headset.

            “No worries, just, I dunno, clean yer glasses or somethin!” he added. She wasn't a fighter, and the fact that she wasn't used to that sort of thing did make him feel at least a little bad for snapping at her. _Fuck, this teamwork shit is makin’ me all soft an’ nice!_ The doors to the shed slid open again, but this time drones came rolling out. _Oh ho ho! Just when I thought things were gonna get borin’!_ Reinhardt put up a massive translucent shield, and started charging. The team rallied behind him.

            “Hang on tight, Rat Boy!” DVa warned, and she kicked on her jets. They rocketed forward, and he very nearly lost his grip. He felt his foot grow hot, and he looked down to see his boot on fire. He had, apparently, been a little too close to the jets.

            “Fuck, you owe me a new pair a boots, Pipsqueak!” He shouted, jumping off, and burying his foot in the sand.

            “What do you need two for?” She sassed back. _I swear to God; I think we might be distantly related!_ The rubber was melted, the leather was singed, but he thought he could feel all his toes just fine, so at least there was that. He reached behind him, pulling the heavy RIPTire off his back, and grabbed a hold of the chain. He yanked the chain with all his might. The engine sputtered to life, and went tearing off past Reinhardt’s shield. It completely clobbered a drone, and exploded into a satisfying fireball. The team was making quick work of the other drones when Tracer’s voice crackled over his headset.

            “We’re out, but teleporting wasn't an option! Sym’s been shot! Could use a little assistance!” She shouted over the headset. His stomach dropped, his heart lurched, and suddenly he was very done playing games.

            “What’s your position?” Winston shouted back, nearly deafening him and anyone else listening.

            “Northeast corner! Behind the beams!” Tracer called back.

            “I'm on it!” Junkrat cackled into the headset. _Fuck! Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck! I knew this didn't smell right! Knew she was gonna get it! This shit was too easy! It was a fuckin’ trap!_ Their position was coming into sight, and a drone came rolling right towards him. It was huge, hulking, and he knew he wouldn't get a shot in quick enough.  _Aw shit!_  He dove into a roll as bullets came whizzing at him, but there was a loud snap, and the sound of machinery struggling to move. It had rolled right into one of his snap-traps! _Holy shit! Totally forgot about that one!_ The trap exploded, taking the drone out with it. _Fuck, that was lucky!_  As he got closer to the girders, it occurred to him that he had most likely laid a few mines around as well, and he didn't want to waste time looping around. Not when they were so close. He reached into one of his pouches, and tossed out a concussion mine. He hopped on top, and hit the detonator, rocketing into the air.

            His landing could have been better, but then, he didn't have much time to think about that as he rag-dolled over the steel. He landed face-first into the sand. His body flipped up and over in a reverse somersault. He flopped over onto his belly, and popped his head out of the sand. He was rather woozy, and temporarily forgot what was even going on. He grinned stupidly at the two women, who stared at him incredulously. Somewhere along the way, he had lost his headset.

            “G’day!” _It's nighttime, ya knob!_ He gave his head a shake, bringing his brain back into focus.Sym was sitting upright, her face a mix of pain, confusion, and anger, so that was a good sign.

            “What are you doing?! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” she shrieked, and for once, he was happy she was yelling at him.

            “Saving your pretty little head, so maybe cut that attitude!” he snapped back. In truth, he was genuinely relieved. Tracer immediately took off to keep an eye on the hole for any more enemies. Junkrat waved her off, and turned back to Sym. He could see the blood running down her leg, and he bent over to examine it. 

            “Alright, well, not much we can do about that. Probably should get ya ta the lil Angel. Hold on a tick!” He said, and rummaged around in a different pouch. He whipped out a bandage roll, and started to wrap it around her thigh.

            “Junkrat! Your hands are filthy” She hissed.

            “Yeah, well, get over it. Don't really feel like seeing ya bleed out in the sand if that's alright with you! Now, brace yerself! This is gonna’ hurt like a bitch!” He warned, and tightened the bandage into a knot.

            “Ff….fffuuuck!” She grit through clenched teeth. He didn't know why, but hearing her swear brought a bit of a smile to his face. He reached into yet another pack, and pulled out a syringe, and an alcohol swab.

            “Glad I nicked some stuff from Angel’s pack b’fore we left.” he said, flicking the syringe to knock out air bubbles, and he pushed until a few drops shot out.

            “What?” She asked, still confused from the pain throbbing through her.

            “Yeah, thought we might bite off more than we can chew. No worries, though. I’ve been patchin’ me an’ Hog up for a long time now, yeah? Got pretty good at it, if I do say so myself,” He beamed, bending close to her leg.

            “Junkrat, are you joking?!” He frowned, and sighed at her answer.

            “Okay, so here’s what's gonna happen. I'm gonna have ta carry ya at least a mile. Know how long that is? Well, it's gonna be a fucking nightmare for ya, cause yer leg is gonna be bumpin and bouncin’ around. So, choice is yours. Wanna be hurtin’ that whole way, or maybe make the ride a lil fun?” he explained. Sym grimaced at the choice, but the pain was excruciating, and she just wanted to be done with it.

            “…I’ll take a half dose.” she said, after some thought. He gave a quick swab with the alcohol pad.

            “Fair enough.” He said, and stuck the needle in.

            “Fffffuuuuuooooahhhhmmmmmm… That's… much better….” she hummed, and her face relaxed. Junkrat chuckled. He capped the syringe, and popped it back into his bag. He’d dispose of it later.

            “Thought that might help!” he grinned. Tracer appeared at his side a moment later.

            “See people comin’! Give me one’a your grenades!” She piped, and he pulled one off his harness, handing it to her. She zipped back to the hole, pulled the pin, and dropped it down. She was back at Junkrat’s side in a blink, and they could hear the grenade go off, followed by a few screams.

            “Alright, let's get ta that truck before it leaves without us! Sym, love? Ya ready ta go?” He asked. She gave a nod, her face serene. He scooped her up, and she gave a small wince, but settled her head against his shoulder. The shot must have worked, because she didn't care at all that soot was smudging up against her face.

            “She alright?” Tracer asked as they ran.

            “Yeah, she's fine! Apart from the hole in her leg, a'course…” he answered.

            “Aw, Lena. I'm fine. Very sweet of you to worry.” Sym mumbled. Tracer gave a worried look, before her eyes flit up to Junkrat.

            “May be a little lightheaded…” he added. The gravity of what he’d done was just starting to set in. Tracer hadn’t seen or heard, and for that, he was suddenly grateful. It dawned on him that she would have put two and two together, and that would have probably spelled disaster. Perhaps rummaging through Mercy's kit wasn't such a smart idea after all. They ran in silence, and it occurred to them that the sound of gunfire was no longer present.

            “Fight’s over?” He wondered out loud, and his question was answered by the sound of D.Va’s Meka stomping their way. She tried to say something, but he motioned that his headset was gone, and she opened up just enough to pop her head out.

            “Found ya! Losers are running back! Well, what’s left of them. Winston left a timed EMP! C’mon! We need to get to the truck before it goes off and fries our equipment!” She said, and started to climb back in.

            “Wait! Ya still able to boost yerself?!” He asked. She nodded.

            “Can ya take Sym? Get her to the truck? You'll get her there quicker than I can.” he said. D.Va nodded, and got back in. He transferred her carefully into the mechanical arms, and he saw the two rocket off into the darkness. He followed Tracer, who seemed annoyed that she had to slow her pace down.They caught up with the truck, and Hog grabbed Junkrat by the shoulder, taking him aside.

            “Mercy noticed somebody’s been in her kit! The fuck you thinkin’, mate?!” _Fuck! If Hog knows…”._  Winston was busy talking with the driver, so it was obvious he wasn't aware. Mercy stuck her head out the back, and the look she gave him made his blood run cold. _Oh…_ _I really fucked up this time…_ She beckoned him with a finger, and he thought it best to do as she said. She bent down from the back of the bed, and leaned close to his ear.

            “When we get back, we’re going to have a little conversation, and you're going to do everything I say, or else I will speak to Winston. Is that clear?” She whispered. His face went white, and he nodded in agreement.

            “Y-yes ma’am…” he stammered. She turned to leave, but he tugged at her wrist. She stared daggers into him.

            “…She gonna’ be alright?”. He asked, not daring to make eye contact. Mercy’s mouth drew into a thin line, but she heaved a sigh.

            “Yes, of course she’ll be alright. I have to extract the bullet, which I can't do until we’re back on the ship, but it will heal up rather easily. She’s fortunate. A centimeter off, and it would have shattered bone.” She answered. She held her hand out to him.

            "Come now. Best get inside. I want to leave this wretched place!” She said, pulling him up onto the truck bed.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            The slap she gave him stung like hell, but he stood there, and took it without protest. They were back home, in her office. She hadn't said a word to him upon his entrance. She simply shut the door, closed the blinds, and slapped him as hard as she could.

            “I can not believe you’d do something so stupid, so reckless, so… so… God, I can't even think I'm so furious!” she seethed. He didn't dare interrupt her.

            “You stole supplies and a controlled substance from me! You stole it, you administered it to somebody else, without even consulting me! You idiot! You absolute…” and she proceeded to launch into a stream of rambling insults and vulgarities, most of which weren't even in English. He waited for her to get it all out, her face growing red from anger. Her blonde locks fell out of place as she shook her head in frustration. She stopped, and took in a deep breath.

            “….with that being said, you are incredibly lucky I already spoke to her. You asked her for verbal consent, and gave her a very small dose. I will blame her poor decision on the pain she was in. She has begged me not to tell Winston, but know that I absolutely would in a heartbeat had she said nothing. What do you have to say for yourself?” She crossed her arms over her chest, and stared into his eyes.

            “Just…. just….sorry. Didn't steal it for fun, right? Don't do that kinda shit f’fun. That's what my buildin’ an’ bombs are for. Nicked it, cause I didn't know what sorta’ shit we were gonna' get into out there. Whole thing felt fishy, if ya ask me. Wanted ta be ready. Z’how we did it in Junkertown. Take what ya need, and patch y’self up as best ya can. Didn't plan on usin’ it on anybody else. Thought maybe if I got hit, it might keep me goin’ a bit longer in the fight. But I didn't get hit. She did. Knew it had ta hurt. Stupid ta send them in there. This whole job was stupid. Ya noticed it too, yeah? Whole thing stinks. Too easy. Doesn't matter, though. I'll just… go pack my things, right? Tell Roadie I said Ta for me? Really am sorry, though.” he rambled. He was circling the drain. He just knew it, and he was ready to leave. It would be rough being on his own again, but he'd manage. He always did. And if those that hunted him caught him? Well… 25 was a pretty long life for a Junker. Mercy stared at him, and he turned to leave. She grabbed his shoulder, turning him back around.

            “Are you telling me the truth? Look me in the eye, and tell me.” she ordered. He stared right into her pupils.

            “Ya know I am. Don’t blame her, alright? ‘M sorry,”. She stared right back, and her face was a pained mix of anger, confusion, frustration, and sadness.

            “As per my confidentiality agreement, I will not tell Winston who administered the serum. Nor will I tell him how my supplies went missing. If you EVER pull a stunt like that again, I will not hesitate to have you locked up. Do you understand me?”. He nodded in response. To his surprise, she reached over, and pulled him into a hug. It was soft, pure, and motherly, and the shock of it stilled his breath. She pulled back, and clasped her small hands around his. Tears were forming, turning her eyes glassy.

            “Everyone told Winston he was a fool for bringing you two on. You were dangerous. Reckless. You were sure to destroy this place. But I saw something in you two. Particularly you. I thought maybe the reason you decided to join was… maybe deep down, you wanted to make things right… This is my family. I love and care for these people, and I welcomed you into it. Do not make me regret letting you into my family.”. She let go of his hands.

            “Leave…” she whispered, and he did as he was told.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Sym and Rat hide away, and get stuck in their own negative thoughts. Wise words from unexpected sources help pull them back out.

            He remained holed-up in his room all through the next day. Winston had never called a debriefing, which only furthered the feeling in his gut that something wasn't right. He was going on two days without sleep, and while he was bone-weary, guilt told him he didn't deserve rest. He didn't deserve food either. He didn't deserve this life. Suddenly there were people who cared about him, but why should they? He was a Junker who wreaked havoc. He was an international criminal who should have been behind bars. He was a monster who should have been left at the bottom of the ocean with all the other monsters. He’d never felt such crippling self-loathing before.

            The images from the previous night weighed heavily on his mind. When he had initially agreed to join Overwatch, it was more for his own self-preservation, if anything. He figured he and Hog would just continue to do what they do, and that would be that. Or was there more to it than that? Was Mercy right? Was it an attempt to try and right the things he had done? He never regretted stealing. That had always been a way of life. He wouldn’t lie, though. He often regretted when lives were caught in his blasts, and the faces would often haunt his nightmares. _Do monsters feel regret?_

            Junkrat tried distracting himself with sketching. Despite his self-loathing, he needed to keep his hands busy. His lines were shaky and erratic. His hands trembled from lack of sleep and lack of food, but he didn't really care. He let his stubby pencil guide itself. He wasn't even sure what he wanted to draw. He just let the dark images in his head flow through his hand; memories of Junkertown and images from his nightmares mingled together into something sinister. The light shining through his window crept along. The shadows cast inside changed with the hour and position of sunlight. The sketching seemed to help. He was getting it out of him, putting it on paper so he could hopefully pull it out of his head for good. It was somewhere around seven when he heard a knock on his door. Roadhog, no doubt. He supposed he owed him an explanation, which he wasn't looking forward to giving.

            He opened the door, and sure enough, it was Hog, but he wasn't alone. Pipsqueak stood next to him, holding a plate wrapped in foil. Dinner, he assumed. She held the plate out to him. He didn't take it, but he tilted his head to invite them in. The door slid shut behind them.

            “You look like shit,” was the first thing Hana told him, as he stepped into his small water closet. It didn't bother him. It was truth. He glanced at himself in the mirror. His face was gaunt, and pale. Dark circles hung under his eyes from the lack of sleep. He was still covered in dirt, ash, and a bit of Sym’s blood.

            “Yeah. Fittin’, considerin’.” He snipped, and he splashed cold water from the sink onto his face. He grabbed a grubby hand towel, and wiped the water away. He came back to the nest of blankets, sheets, and pillows he called a bed, and flopped down face-first. He buried himself underneath so not a single bit of him showed. _Just like a rat. Burrow away when things get bad._ He heard the sound of the foil unwrapping, and Hana stepped closer. Junkrat peeked under the edge of the blanket, and saw she was holding something out to him.

            “They had those coconut cookies you like, so I snagged you a couple…”. From underneath the pile of blankets his hand slowly slid out, grabbed the biscuit, and brought it back underneath. He munched it quietly.

            “No one else heard what happened. Winston told everyone to keep their headsets off so if Sym needed help, Mercy could have a direct line.” Hana explained while he gnawed at the treat. He held his hand out, and she popped another biscuit into his palm.

            “I was there with Mercy when she heard Sym was shot. Started going through her kit. Noticed shit was missin’. Important shit. The kind only people who know what they’re doin’ should be messin’ with. The fuck were ya thinkin’, Rat? We ain't in Junkertown. Don't need ta go pinchin’ supplies an’ playin’ doctor no more,” Hog reminded him.

            “….I know…” Junkrat finally responded, “Everythin’ about this mission stunk. Call it a hunch. Knew somethin’ was wrong. Haven't even had a debriefin’ yet. Don't that strike ya as weird? But yeah. Didn't know what kinda’ shit we were goin’ into. Said they had all this intel, but last time, they told me an’ Sym we was just gonna be lookouts. S’pose ta take care a loose-ends. Then those Talon wankers dropped right on toppa’ us. Didn't want a repeat a somethin’ like that. Thought maybe takin’ a lil somethin’ along for emergency might not be a bad idea. Helped get us outta tight spots b’fore, right Hog?” Junkrat rambled. Hog grunted.

            “Sydney was a different time, Rat…”.

            “Look, I'm glad you two are having a great time wallowing together, but are you going to eat this food, because I'm sick of holding this plate, and I'm not going to hand-feed you like a pet hamster.” Hana cut in. Her snark actually seemed to help. Junkrat forced out a strained chuckle, and pulled the blankets back. He turned, pulling himself up onto his elbows, and rest the plate on his stomach. The heat radiating from the bottom seeped into his skin. Barbecue chicken, a roll, and a pile of green beans. He wrinkled his nose at the green beans. He'd always hated them. He started with the roll.

            “Gettin’ back to it… Guess they're havin’ trouble with the data Sym stole. Computer ain't workin’ right. S’pose that's ta be expected with that old shit. Gotta’ get it runnin’ so they can figure out what's even on there. S'why there hasn't been any meetin’s.” Hog explained. Junkrat finished his roll, and grabbed a chicken leg. He bit into it, and pulled a face.

            “Fuckin’ bots. Ain't worth the scrap they're made of. Can't trust machines to make decent barbecue. Shoulda’ just had me do it.” He grumbled. He still ate it, though. He was ravenous, and despite the lack of proper char, it was better than an empty belly, and worlds better than the green beans. It also made him feel a little more human, and the self-loathing from earlier was temporarily pushed aside. There had always been two sides to him, and food was often a determining factor in his behavior.

            “You cook?” Hana piped up, surprised.

            “Barbecue, yeah. Pretty good at it, ain't I, Hog?” he said, looking at his friend, who took a seat on the foot of his bed. The mattress groaned under his massive weight.

            “Pretty good if ya like yer food burnt to a crisp,” Hog rumbled a laugh. Hana snickered.

            “Oi, look at Mr. Picky-Pig over here! Only burn it f’you, ya know.”.

            “I actually wouldn't mind trying it sometime. I think Reinhardt has a grill here somewhere. Maybe you should cook for us sometime. Bet the team would like it, right? All you gotta’ do is talk to Winston to add what you want onto the weekly supply list.” Hana offered. Junkrat grimaced. He really didn't want to talk with the ape more than was necessary, and he still worried in the back of his mind that somehow he'd find out about the incident from last night.

            “Alright, how about you write down a list, and I’ll ask him, then?” Hana suggested, having noticed the look on his face at the mention of Winston. Junkrat agreed. Maybe he'd even earn some points with Mercy. He popped the plate onto his messy nightstand, and licked the sauce off his fingers. _Too sweet. Needs more heat._  He slowly pushed himself up, sitting on the edge of the bed.

            “You two should probably take off. Gotta lot ta do. Not really sure where ta start, though. Gonna be a while. Got… I dunno’. Thoughts.” They nodded, and left, but not before Hana turned back.

            “Maybe you should start with cleaning this place up. It's pretty gross, y’know.”

            “Yeah, I know.” He smirked, waving them off.

.           .           .           .           .

 

            Sym spent the day curled up on her bed. The memories of the previous night flashed through her brain; an endless loop of poor decisions. She trusted him, and she didn't know why. He had admitted to stealing from Mercy. He said it wasn't like that. Just in case he got in a spot. She believed him. Why? It was so stupid. She simply ignored the fact that he had a criminal record a mile long. She had reminded herself that she had been in pain. She’d lost blood. Why else would she have agreed to that? Had it been Angela in his place, there'd be no issue. Angela was a trained medical professional. Junkrat most certainly was not.

            She looked down at her leg. The bullet wound was already healed, thanks to the wonders of Angela’s seemingly magical tools and skill. She still wasn't supposed to put weight on it, though. Not for a few more days. She had been given crutches earlier that morning, and told she could leave the med bay. She couldn't forget the look of disappointment on Angela’s face when Hana brought her up to the truck bed.

            “Sym… that was not a wise decision.” the doctor’s words echoed. She had felt so good. So relaxed. The pain in her leg was nonexistent. The shock and adrenaline were gone. But that look she gave her…

            “Please, don't tell Winston!” she quietly cried on the dropship, when the drug wore off, and she realized what she had done. She should have been kicked out. She knew better. She should have just dealt with the pain. Anger told her it was his fault. Realization told her she hadn't been in that much pain. She could have made the mile without it. All she knew was regret. 

            _Maybe I should go back to Vishkar…_ But how could she? She started to burn that bridge the moment she accepted the Recall, and even more so when she'd called back to beg for a new gauntlet. Sanjay had initially allowed her the sabbatical on the condition that she continue to represent Vishkar in a positive light. The corporation was, in secret, Overwatch’s largest financial support, and she was to keep an eye on things, and make sure it was indeed a smart investment. If word got out… if Angela broke her promise, which she had every right to do… Vishkar had been her life, and there was no way they'd take her back, disgraced as she already was for leaving in the first place. Sanjay made that clear with the final warning after their conference call. She had let him down too. Her mind drifted back to the med bay.

            She had been awake when he walked into her office. Mercy had closed the door, shut the blinds, and she heard a smack, followed by a tirade of muffled shouts. Who could sleep through that? He walked out of the office several minutes later. He had paused at the foot of her bed, and stared for only a moment. She kept her eyes shut tight then, feigning sleep. She couldn't bring herself to look at him.

“I know ya can’t hear me, but.. just… don’t blame ya’self, alright?” he had whispered before leaving. A light knock interrupted her thoughts. It was late. Who on earth would be knocking on her door?

            “Angela?” she stammered, when she finally opened the door. She was dressed for bed, wrapped in a soft green robe. Her white-blonde hair hung loose around her shoulders. She was carrying a tray loaded with a teapot and two cups.

            “I thought you might like some tea. May I come in?” she asked. Sym nodded, and hobbled back to her bed. Angela set the tray on her desk, and poured a cup for her. She handed it to Sym. _Chamomile. I know that scent anywhere._ It wasn’t her favorite, but it always served a purpose. The doctor took a seat at the chair in front of her, and poured her own cup.

            “I came to check up on you. How are you feeling?” she calmly asked.

            “My leg feels weak, but it doesn't hurt,” she answered, and took a long sip. The tea was delicate, warm, and comforting. She could feel it easing the knot in her stomach.

            “Good, but that's not what I wished to know. How are you feeling?” She asked again. Sym held the cup in both hands, allowing the heat to seep through the porcelain, and into her palm. _Just talk to her._

            “Confused. Angry.” She managed to choke out. She needed to talk, and she'd do it if she had to physically reach down her throat and pull the words out herself. Now was not the time to clam up. Angela patiently waited.

            “Confused, because I trusted him, and I don't know why. I don't know why I thought it was a good idea. Angry, because I should have known better. Angry, because I disappointed you. Disappointed myself. Angry, because I don’t think he even realized what he did was wrong. Angry, because I'm letting so many people down.” she expanded.

            “That's a lot of anger you're holding on to.” She pointed out, sipping her tea. “I hope you know I am not disappointed in you. Merely the situation that came into being. You were hurt. He saw that. Foolish as it was, he only did what he thought was right.” Angela explained.

            “What he thought was right?! Angela, he stole from you! He stole…” But she cut her off.

            “What do you know about the Junkers?” She asked. Sym shook her head.

            “Nothing, really. The Omnium in Australia exploded, and turned the Outback into a wasteland. The Junkers run amok there. That's all I really know.” She replied.

            “That is a very… concise way of putting it. Years ago, I spent a short time in Australia. Brisbane. Lovely place. But there were reports of Junker packs coming in. They'd come and steal from communities that bordered the Outback. I was shocked at what they stole. Food. Water. Parts. Medical supplies. Basic things they needed to survive. It made me so sad. They were people, and yet they had to steal just to ensure they had sterile gauze pads, and aspirin, and any number of items you probably have in your own medicine cabinet. The rest of the world just… ignored them. Pretended they didn’t exist.” She elaborated. Sym wasn't sure where she was going with this.

            “I believe he didn't steal for personal gain. I think he was just falling back on old survival habits. Roadhog was with me when I discovered the missing items. He tried to explain that to me. I was having none of it at the time. I was so angry. Furious…”. At this, she paused, and Sym was thankful. The past forty-eight hours had been too much. First the nervousness and worry for the mission. Then the mission itself. And then…

            “Why are you defending him?” Sym finally asked. It wasn't accusatory. She just wanted to know. She always saw Angela as an excellent judge of character. She had immense respect for the doctor. She was intelligent, calm under pressure, and above all, kind. She wanted to save people, and make the world a better place, and that was something Sym could relate to. Angela pondered the question.

            “I will tell you the same thing I told him last night. This place is my home. You all are my family. I love and care for every single one of you. Sometimes, we make mistakes, but it is important we give family a chance to make things right. Family forgives, Satya.”. The sound of her real name cut her like a knife. _There's that word again. Family._ She set the tea cup on her nightstand, and rubbed her face. It was late, she was tired, and all of this was too much for her to handle.

            “But first, I think you need to start with forgiving yourself. You blame yourself for so much, most of which is out of your control…” she added. Sym kept her face covered. She didn't see Angela get out of the chair, but suddenly there were arms around her. She stiffened at first. She hated being hugged, but this was different. It was soft, soothing, reassuring. She smoothed Sym’s hair with soft strokes of her hand.

            “You are very dear to me. I do not want to see you suffer. Know that I am here for you. Always.” she murmured, and released her from the embrace. She gave Sym a soft smile, collected the tray, and turned to leave.

            “You consider me family?” Sym blundered. Angela stopped, and looked over her shoulder with a gentle smile.

            “Always.” she repeated.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sym takes a break from the workshop, and boredom drives Junkrat to do something desperate. He also discovers that working with her is going to become increasingly difficult.

            Junkrat hunched over his work table, tightening the last few screws on another snap trap. He was rather pleased with the results of the last one, and he figured a few of them wouldn't be a bad thing to add to his growing back stock. Torbörn was busy sweeping up metal shavings.

            “Yer awful quiet, twiggy,” he commented. Junkrat kept working, and simply shrugged. _Don't see the point in talkin’. Ya just gonna tell me ta shut up, anyways._ He had come in that morning to find Sym’s few belongings were gone from the table. Torb had told him it was temporary, so she could work more comfortably in her room. Junkrat knew that was a lie. _Maybe it's for the best, though._

The window had been pushed open, letting in a warm summer breeze. The scent of the sea found its way in, and Junkrat sneered. _Fuckin’ hate the ocean_. He got up to close the window, but his attention turned at the sound of a loud roar. Winston came thundering outside, and he was absolutely terrifying! He pound the ground with his fists. He growled incoherently. Torbörn dropped what he was doing, and came running to the window.

            “What de hell has got him ragin’?!” Torb wondered. _Dunno’, but sure as fuck hope it ain't me!_ He didn't think it was, else Winston would have probably just run right into the workshop to wring his neck. Tracer came running out, and Junkrat could hear her calling to her friend. Her voice seemed to calm the ape. He stopped, and turned. Even from four floors up, he could see the look of shame and frustration come over Winston. Tracer held something out to him, and he took whatever it was into his big hands. It was his glasses. He slipped them on, and it immediately seemed to settle him. Tracer hugged him, and the two walked back into the complex. Twenty minutes later, the computerized voice, Athena, called over the intercom.

            “There will be a mandatory debriefing in one hour. Repeat: There will be a mandatory debriefing in one hour.”. _Guess we’re about to find out._ The pair finished up their projects, and head down together. Torb had to trot to keep up with Junkrat’s long legs.

            They were the last to arrive, apart from Winston. Junkrat took his usual seat at the back, next to Roadhog. He saw Sym out of the corner of his eye, and decided to test the waters with a small wave. She saw it, but only gave the slightest nod. _Small steps, I s’ppose_. Winston came through the door a few moments later, a black case tucked under his arm. He slowly walked to the front, his face grave. The room was silent as he dimmed the lights. He stepped up to his podium.

            “I want to apologize to all of you. As you all no doubt know, I had to wait for this debriefing until I could retrieve the information acquired by Symmetra and Lena. Well, that happened earlier this morning.” Winston paused, and Junkrat wondered what the case was for. An image of a woman came up on the projector behind him. By the sounds of some of the people around him, it was apparently somebody they were familiar with.

            “I mentioned before that we had sources. That source is Fareeha Amari. For those who are unaware, she is the daughter of Ana Amari, one of our founding members.” A somber look fell over some of the older team members.

            “She currently works for Helix Security, which was how she was able to come across this information. Helix has worked in tandem with us in the past, but after the PETRAS act, we’ve had to sever ties. When Helix refused to act upon possible Talon activity, Amari thought we might be interested. And that was exactly what Talon planned. There's no easy way to put this. We were set up.” _But we kicked their asses, didn't we?_

            “On the surface, it appears a success. We accomplished our objective with minimal risk. Our infiltration team successfully retrieved what we thought to be valuable data. However, upon uploading it, we came to see this.” At that moment, Winston opened the case, and turned it around. A camera in the ceiling zoomed in, and displayed the contents on the projection screen. It was an old computer. Junkrat recalled they were called laptops. He had found one once in his scavenging. He had fiddled with it, trying to make it work, but it had been too damaged. The one Winston had was in working order. Its backlit screen displayed a black window with a simple line of white text.

 

            **Did you really think it would be that easy? ;)**

 

            Junkrat could almost appreciate the snark. After all, he spent hours on end painting maniacal faces on all of his creations. The other members seemed shocked, and Sym looked downright forlorn. He couldn't blame her. In the end, she took a bullet for nothing.

            “Talon set up a front there to draw us out, and in doing so, we have incriminated Helix. They knew Helix was watching them. When Helix did nothing, and we stepped in... As it stands, they now have confirmation of one of our allies, and what our team brings to the table.”

            “They sacrificed all those lives just to gain a little intel?” Sym cut in. Junkrat was surprised by her interruption. _Their lives? They fuckin’ shot ya! They’re the bad guys! Deserve every bit’a what they got!_

            “It would seem so… I'm sorry I rushed us out there. I should have waited to gain further insight. My rash decision put all of you in danger for nothing. I can't apologize enough for my poor decision.”. Poor decision? Junkrat knew a thing or two about those. He'd made quite a few over the years.

            “We’re going to be taking a break from Talon for a while. I only want to engage if they pose a clear and direct threat. They’ve become unpredictable. Erratic. In short, something I don’t think we can fully handle at this time. Not until more people accept the Recall. Until then, I will find us more contract work. I hope you all enjoy playing security.” Winston said, dejected. The ape wrapped up the debriefing, and dismissed them. No one seemed particularly keen on getting back to what they were doing, and milled about in the halls, or head to the common room to relieve some stress with darts and pool. Junkrat wasn't sure where he wanted to go. He knew he still had another snap-trap in the works, and maybe finishing that would clear his head. _Knew that job was garbage._ At least he felt a little vindicated.

            As he rounded the top of the fourth floor steps, he heard an elevator ding. His own stomp-click was soon joined by a sound similar to his own. He looked behind him, and Sym was catching up on her crutches. She had a white messenger bag slung across her, embroidered with a large Vishkar logo. Junkrat opened the workshop door, no doubt where she was heading. He forced a smile, and waved her in first with an exaggerated bow.

            “Ladies first!” he grinned. She walked past with a quiet “thank you”, and made her way to her empty station. She sat at her chair, and started going through the drawers, pulling out files and a binder. She popped them into her bag.

            “Settin’ up shop somewhere else?” He ventured. Sym paused, but didn't look up.

            “My work doesn't require the use of this room. I can design and practice anywhere. There is no reason for me to be here,” she explained. Her voice was monotone, but her choice in words spoke volumes.

            “It's ‘cause a me, yeah? I fucked up bad. Know I did. Shouldn't a done it. Well… Shoulda’ done it differently, anyways. Don't feel bad about the helpin’ ya part, though.” he awkwardly rambled. Sym kept stuffing things into her bag, and exhaled sharply.

            “… It's not because of you. At least, not directly. A lot has happened in a very short amount of time. I just need some time to myself to process. Does that make sense?” She asked. She was right, of course. A lot had happened, and he was slowly learning that she was not one to easily adapt to change.

            “Yeah… Yeah I gotcha’…” he said, giving her a lopsided smile. It was forced, and he knew she could tell. She zipped her bag shut, and pushed herself up from the desk. She turned, trying to reach for her crutches, but they clattered to the ground, just out of reach. He scooped them up. Sym held her hand out to take them, but he lingered a moment.

            He didn't know what compelled him to do it. It all sort of just… happened. He grabbed her hand, and pulled her in close. He wrapped his arms around her, her head tucked up under his chin. Her perfume wound its way around him. Sandalwood.  _Fuck! She smells too good._ Her hair brushed up against his hand. It was soft. He could feel warmth thread through him; an odd sensation of completeness.

            “Yer a good person, Sym. Didn't mean ta put ya in a tight spot,” he murmured, oblivious to the irony of his words. She tensed, and held her breath.

            “Junkrat… please let me go.” She murmured back. His grip lessened a bit, and she started to pull away.

            “Sorry. Don't like that sorta’ thing, do ya?” He blundered, trying to cover his disappointment. Sym had fully unwound herself, and reached for her crutches.

            “No… I just didn't want you to stain my uniform.” and he noticed a small smirk. He snorted.

            “Right. Course. I'll remember ta scrub up next time.” he said, with a small chuckle of relief. There was a slight moment where she almost looked shocked, or maybe he imagined it. It was so brief, he couldn't tell. She started towards the door.

            “See that you do… I'll be back in a few days.” She called behind her.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            Those few days felt like a few years to Junkrat. Sym managed to avoid him, for the most part, and while it stung a bit, he didn't fault her for it. She just needed some peace to work things out, and he wanted to show that he understood that.

            Morale in general was down. With Winston’s less than positive debriefing, and no missions planned, the Recall team had grown listless. Some members (the Junkers in particular) were scaling the walls. They tried to see what entertainment they could find around the complex. They discovered the outdoor pool, but Junkrat had no want of that. They tried playing some of Hana’s games, but Hog’s hands were too big to work the tiny controllers. Jesse offered to teach them some sharp-shooting, and they discovered that there were some skills Junkrat would never be able to learn. 

            “Alright! I hit that one!” he proudly beamed, pointing at his paper target. Jesse brought the target up for closer inspection. Junkrat was right proud of the fact that a bullet hole could be seen in the far left corner of the sheet (several inches from the outline of the actual target).

            “I'm thinkin’ yer a blast to work with, Rat, but I sure as hell hope I never have to rely on your aim!” the cowboy joked. Hog, wasn’t much better, but that was mostly due to his mask. 

            Boredom was something Junkrat could never handle, and he often turned to acts of desperation if he needed to liven things up. That desperation pushed Junkrat to do something he never thought he'd actually do. He went to talk to Winston. The ape had remained holed-up in his office since the debriefing, pouring over files, and constantly tacking away at his computer. He seemed genuinely surprised when the knock came, and Junkrat walked in.

            “I didn't call you down.” was his greeting.

            “Yeah, well… Pipsq-, sorry. Hana said you could add stuff to our supply list if I asked?” he ventured. Winston nodded, and Junkrat reached into his pocket. He pulled out a crumpled piece of notebook paper, attempted to smooth it out, and handed it to Winston. He took it in his leathery hand, and popped his glasses on to read better. It took him a moment to adjust to Junkrat’s unique concept of handwriting, but he eventually made heads and tails of it.

            “You're wanting… barbeque supplies?” he asked, with genuine curiosity. Junkrat nodded.

            “Yeah. Was wantin’ some barbecue that actually tastes good!” he snickered. Winston rubbed his chin.

            “This can easily be arranged… would you mind cooking for everyone?” Winston asked. Junkrat had a feeling it wasn't really an offer he could turn down. Residual guilt made him feel like he owed the team something.

            “Yeah, s’pose I can do that. Teach this lot what real food tastes like, not that bland stuff them bots cook up. Don't get me wrong. They get the job done, but I say never trust a machine when it comes ta charrin’.” he replied. Winston sat the list down, and laced his fingers together.

            “We could use it. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but spirits are… a bit low. I think we could all do with something to bring us back up. I think I can get these items onto our list today, so they'd arrive by tomorrow. How does the day after tomorrow sound?”. Junkrat scratched his head.

            “Don’t see a problem. Think I can do that.”. It was settled, the arrangements were finalized, and Junkrat left the office before he could realize what he agreed to and change his mind. Word got around fast, and he noticed considerably less dour expressions on everyone’s faces by day’s end. 

            What was supposed to be a simple grilling operation slowly turned into a summer barbecue blow-out, and everyone wanted to bring something to the table. Junkrat went out early in the day to set up the barbie with Roadhog and Hana in tow. He was surprised when she had offered to help, but soon found that her concept of assistance consisted of laying out on a lawn chair with headphones firmly in place, scrolling through her phone. She told him she was “supervising”. 

            He sprayed the wood planks with a generous portion of lighter fluid, and (to him) it was one of the loveliest scents he could think of… apart from Sym’s cooking… and her perfume… _Fuck, I miss her. Hope she comes out t’day._

            “Got enough lighter fluid there, Rat Boy?” Pipsqueak said, shaking Junkrat’s wandering mind from places it didn't belong. He stood over the grill, his hands wrapped around the plastic bottle. He stared Hana in the eyes, and gave one last squirt while sticking his tongue out.

            “You're such a brat!” she joked. Junkrat grabbed a match, flicked it with his thumb, and tossed it onto the planks. The fireball that ensued was quite lovely, though he did have to check to make sure he still had eyebrows. The smoke traveled across the complex, and the team followed the scent towards the courtyard by the pool, where he had set up shop. It was a gorgeous summer day, and no one wanted to waste it stuck indoors. Even the negative thoughts that had been stewing in the back of his mind were slowly pushed away.

            “Bah! You're not vearing my grill apron!” Reinhardt scolded. _Yeah, cause who the fuck wears an apron?!_ The giant reached over to the nearby picnic table, where Junkrat had left the silly thing behind. Massive hands draped the fabric over the unwilling Junker.

            “You use my grill, you vear my apron!” he ordered as he tied it behind him. It was black, and embroidered across it was the silhouette of a shapely woman standing next to a grill. Underneath, it said “Grill of my dreams”. Even Junkrat found that joke to be a tad corny. 

            There was a loud splash from the pool, and he turned to see Mei and Zarya hopping in. Tracer sat at the edge in cut-off shorts, dipping her feet in while enjoying a beer. _Wait! Where the hell did she get a beer?! I want one!_ As if the gods of libation had heard his prayers, an amber bottle floated into his field of vision. He turned his head to see Jesse holding one out to him. He had on a t-shirt that had its sleeves cut off (“Sun’s Out, Guns Out”, with dual revolvers crossed underneath), and of course, his hat. Junkrat wondered if he ever took it off. It was quite possible he even showered with it on.

            “Ain't grillin’ without drinkin’!” He chuckled. _Ain't called grillin’. Gonna have a long talk with these folks and set them straight on proper terminology!_ Vernacular aside, Junkrat grabbed the bottle and flicked off the top with his metal thumb.

            “Bloody oath, mate! Cheers!” He responded, clinking his bottle to Jesse’s.

            “Ah! Symmetra! Joining us for a swim?” Zarya boomed from the pool. Junkrat’s hand tightened around the bottle when he heard her name. He peeked over, seeing somebody walk up to the edge of the pool. _Fuck, why's she wearing that?!_ The pretty green sundress was flattering, to say the least. The days apart only reminded him that she was gorgeous, and damn if he didn't miss sneaking glances at her when she silently worked at his side. Sym slipped her foot out of her gold sandal, and dipped her toes in to test the water.

            “Yes, I was hoping to get a few laps in before the food was ready.” she replied. She stepped over towards the benches that lined the border of the pool, and laid her towel down. She untied the knot at her hip, unwrapped the folds of the little green sundress, and let it slide down to her feet. _Fuck, why’s she wearing THAT?!_ The black one-piece suit underneath wasn't particularly revealing, but it was certainly more of her than he'd expected to see. Trimmed in silver, the back dipped down low, showing the soft line of her spine, and the angles of her shoulder blades. There were no words in his vocabulary to truly capture the utter perfection that was Symmetra’s ass. _This… this is gonna make workin with her awful difficult._

            She undid her hair from the knot on top, and let it cascade down her back. She kicked the sandals off, scooted them underneath, and carefully draped the little green dress across the bench. Sym head over to the area portioned off for laps, and dove in. She popped up a few moments later at the other end, pushing herself up along the lip of the pool, and fell back into an elegant backstroke. _Oh, you're just doing that on purpose!_ though he knew very well she was utterly oblivious of his gaze.

            She swam back and forth. Sometimes, a backstroke. Sometimes freestyle, and then a few laps of breaststrokes. _She's a bleedin’ mermaid!_ For a moment, he actually entertained the idea of leaving the barbie _,_ and hopping right in with her. Then he remembered he'd probably make a complete ass of himself when he'd inevitably sink like a stone. He wasn't too keen on drowning again anytime soon. Although….

            “Rat Boy…”. _I could just pretend to drown…_

            “Rat Boy…”. _Yeah, then she'd have ta come ta my rescue!_

            “Dude!”. _Fuck, she'd be all on toppa’ me. Try an’ give me mouth ta mouth…_ But a sharp kick to his shin immediately jostled him from his inappropriate daydreams. Pipsqueak was holding a tray of marinated lamb chops, and staring at him.

            “Hey! Glad to have you back! You going to get started on this food, or what?” She asked. He stared right back at her. _Food? What food? Oh! Right!_ He took a pair of tongs, and began transferring the chops over from the tray.

            “Sorry. Sorry. Lost in thought…” He blundered, hoping she’d believe him. She most certainly didn't. She turned towards the direction he had been staring at so intently, and a wicked little grin spread across her face.

            “Lost in thought, huh?” Pipsqueak sniggered. Junkrat took a long pull from his beer.

            “Yyyyyep.” he coolly responded. The grin never left her face.

            “….stop smilin’! It's… unsettlin’!”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The barbeque winds down, but the day is far from over. Summer days lead to summer nights.

            “Holy hell, Rat! Those chops were on a whole different level!” Jesse exclaimed, finishing up his last bite. Winston reached for another grilled banana, and a third helping of peppers and onions. Torbörn had attempted to reach for something, but his short arms made it difficult.

            “Can ya hand me another one a dem sausages, twiggy?” He asked. Junkrat leaned over, catching the man’s nose with the tongs.

            “They're called snags! Use their proper name an’ I will! Now, what's the magic word?” Junkrat giggled. Torbörn gripped the tongs with his metal claw, and bent them at a 90-degree angle. _Well, I s’pose that's close enough!_ He slid the plate of snags closer. Raucous laughter burst over their table.

            Junkrat looked around at the other two tables, and felt, well, good. The barbeque had been a successful venture after all. Everyone around him seemed to be enjoying themselves, and he found that he actually liked that. He stood up for a moment, excusing himself to get another beer from the cooler. His path took him past a table with Zarya, Mei, Tracer, and Reinhardt.

            “Rat Man! I love the food! Where did you learn to cook?” Zarya boomed. She always boomed. He was fairly convinced she had no other volume setting.

            “You kiddin’? I'm an Aussie, love! It's in m’blood! Plus, ya gotta find some way ta make lizards and birds palatable.” There was a bit of a chuckle around the table. _You lot think I'm jokin, but I can cook up a mean lizard._

            “I tell you, it vas my lucky apron that did the trick!” Reinhardt interjected. Junkrat realized he was still wearing the damn thing. Well, he'd gotten to see a lot more of Sym than he had expected, so maybe it was lucky after all.

            “Oh! We should have a bonfire when the sun goes down!” Tracer piped up.

            “That’s an excellent idea!” Mei squeaked. _Bonfire, eh? I suppose my services can be called upon again!_

            “Two fires in one day?! Talk it over with the big guy, then. I'll be happy ta make that dream a reality!” Junkrat chuckled, and he stepped over to the cooler. He rummaged through the ice, scrunching his face up from the cold. It sadly seemed to be empty. Maybe there were more bottles in the kitchen. He stepped away, and head back to the compound. He wasn't the only one in the kitchen. As he reached through the industrial-sized refrigerator, he heard light footfalls.

            “Ah! There you are!” came Angela’s sweet voice. He popped his head out from behind the door. She was smiling at him, so that was good. She had something in her hands.

            “Do you have a moment?” she asked. Junkrat gave a nod, not sure where their conversation was going to go.

            “This was all very nice of you,” she started, “I know we all needed a little something to perk us up.”

            “Yeah? Well, it was really Pipsqueak’s idea.” he answered. Angela raised a confused eyebrow.

            “D.Va… Hana. Fuck, everybody’s got too many names here! Hard ta keep em straight sometimes.” he clarified. Angela smiled.

            “Well, I think you've been here long enough to start referring to people on a first-name basis.” she corrected.

            “Kinda like the names I came up with more.” he smirked. Angela smirked back.

            “Is that right, _Jamison?”._ Junkrat flinched at that. No one ever called him that, save for police, or anyone who got their hands on his criminal report. She seemed to notice he wasn't a fan of his name.

            “I didn't mean to give offense. I think it is a nice name. You should be proud of it.” she added. He bent back down to dig through the refrigerator.

            “I have something for you…” she added. Interest piqued, he looked back up. She held out a white gift box tied up with an orange ribbon. He took it, and slowly undid the bow. He lift the lid to see a small green canvas pouch. A red patch with a white cross was stitched on it. “First Aid” was embroidered underneath in white letters. He looked back up, and Angela gave him a soft smile.

            “The next time you decide to play doctor, make sure you're better prepared.” She said. He chuckled.

            “That’s… That’s great. Thanks love.” He grinned. She shook her head and reached underneath a counter. She pulled out a bottle of wine.

            “And now the real reason I came in here!” She grinned, and found a cabinet with wine glasses. She grabbed a couple and walked out of the kitchen. Junkrat opened the first aid pack. Inside were bandage rolls, gauze pads, a bottle of aspirin, some tubes of antiseptic creams and burn gels, and a few other odds and ends that were in most basic kits. He noticed something else embroidered on the inside of the pack. Hand stitched in elegant letters was a little message. _Family Forgives_. He closed the pack and slid the kit into his pocket. _Well… ain’t that somethin’?_

            After some digging, he managed to locate a six-pack of cans. He popped one out of the plastic ring, and cracked it open. He hooked his finger through the plastic, and took the remaining five with him. Heading back toward the courtyard, he noticed that everyone had started to clear everything away, and putting together a nice fire ring.

            “Oi, I see how it is! I step out for two seconds, and you lot decide ta have fun without me!” he shouted from the top of the path leading down.

            “Yeah! We didn't want you to accidentally set the place on fire!” Mei snipped. Even she was getting in on the snarky fun. _Pretty sure that's the first real thing she's ever said to me!_

            He wasn't sure where they'd gotten it, but a pile of firewood was hauled out, and Junkrat set to work. The fire was magnificent, and drew the team to it like moths. They sat, they talked, they drank, they laughed. Roadhog kept flinging toasted marshmallows over to Junkrat, who tried his best to catch them in his mouth. Jesse switched from beer to whiskey, and passed his bottle around to any who'd try it. It was smoky, and burned going down, but Junkrat was already feeling the beer, and stopped after his first pull. Sym sat a little behind everyone, quietly watching the people around her. The hours wound down, and slowly, tired from food, drink, and fun, the team began to trickle away from the dying fire.

            Winston was the first to leave, followed by Reinhardt and Torbörn, who claimed they were too old to stay up that late. Angela left, leaving a bottle of wine behind for anyone who wanted it. Tracer followed shortly behind her. Zarya helped a fairly inebriated Mei back towards the watchpoint.

            “I told you to pace yourself!” Zarya mildly scolded. Mei hiccupped.

            “Sh-shuddup and give me a piggy-back ride!” She replied, and, laughing, Zarya complied. Jesse had passed out in a drunken stupor on one of the empty picnic tables; his hat tipped to cover his face. Roadhog had leaned up against the side of the table, and had nodded off as well. Hana stood up to stretch, and looked around at the less-than-lively crowd.

            “Think I might head back. Watch a movie or something. Wanna come, Rat Boy?” Junkrat’s eyes darted to Sym, who seemed settled into a new glass of wine.

            “Nah. Think I'm gonna stick around for a bit more.” He coolly responded. Hana’s eyes flit over to where he'd been looking, and darted right back.

            “That's cool. Nighty night!” She said with a wave, and when Sym’s back was turned, gave him a thumbs up. _Oh for the love of…_ Sym reached over, grabbed a couple blankets off the grass, and draped one over Jesse, and another over Hog.

            “Naw, baby… Mm.. Leave th’boots on….” Jesse mumbled in his sleep.

            “Aw! Like a giant hairy drunken baby!” Junkrat snickered, and she joined him in the laugh. She sat down on the blanket beside him, smoothed the skirt of her green sundress, and sighed.

            “Today was lovely. I had fun.” She said, her voice low, and sipped her wine.

            “Yeah?”. She nodded, watching the last few flames lick up the side of a branch.

            “I needed this. We all did. Thank you.”. He, stretched his legs out, warming his foot by the fire, and leaned back on his elbows.

            “Glad I did it, then… Ya plannin’ on comin back t’the workshop?” _Please say yes._

            “Oh! Well…” _Well?! Don't say well! Say yes! “_ …I believe I am ready to return.” _Phew!_

            “Good. Good… Missed ya somethin’ fierce these past few days,” he said. _Shouldn’ta said that._

            “….I… I missed you, too.” she hesitantly replied. _….wot?_ She took another sip, and sat her glass down on the grass. Sym wiggled her sandals off, and laid flat on her back. Her fingers laced over her stomach. She let out another relaxed sigh.

            “Just needed some time to myself, but the longer I was alone, the longer I realized I missed being around everyone. Isn’t that silly?”.

            “I dunno’. This lot’s kinda’ startin’ ta grow on me, too.” he replied.

            “What’s Australia like?” she asked, staring up at the night sky. Junkrat was caught a little off guard by the question, but then, everything she said and did at that moment made him feel that way. He scratched his head.

            “I dunno. Nice I guess. Parts of it, anyways. Not Junkertown, though. That place was a shithole.” He began. “I liked Sydney, though. Probably woulda’ stuck around there if things were diff’rent.”

            “Different how?”.

            “Hard ta blend in when yer a Junker. Suits could always tell. Ya try an’ go legit, an’ they tell ya no, so ya gotta go back ta what ya know. Or Suits use ya. Tell ya they need yer help, but turns out they just need someone ta throw unda’ the bus.”. Junkrat grimaced. He really didn't want to bring that up. It just sort of popped out.

            “I'm sorry. I should not have pried.” she apologized.

            “S’alright. Kinda feels nice ta get it out. Hog’s great, but I didn't exactly hire him for his witty repartee.” he joked. Sym twiddled her thumbs, still staring up.

            “Alright. Fair’s fair. I told ya a bit about me. Whatta’ ‘bout you?” he asked, trying to change the subject. It'd only be a matter of time before she brought up his crime spree, and that wasn't exactly how he wanted to end the night.

            “Oh… Well, I grew up in Hyderabad.”.

            “What was that like?”

            “Horrible. It was loud, crowded. Utter chaos. I hated every second of it.” Junkrat figured that wouldn't be her cup of tea. “And then I was recruited by Vishkar. It was paradise on earth.” She said, with a small smile at the memory.

            “Why’d ya leave paradise?”

            “… paradise may have an underbelly…” she cryptically answered. She exhaled sharply, and remained silent for a few moments. He wondered if maybe he should say something, but then she finally spoke up.

            “Want to know a secret?” she asked, and he found that far too tempting.

            “Only always,”.

            “I was a troublemaker at the Vishkar academy.” Junkrat raised an eyebrow.

            “You? Miss Follow Th’Rules? Ha! Have a hard time believin’ that!” he snickered.

            “It's true. I used to use hard light to make toys for the other students. Earned myself a caning for misusing such important technology to make frivolous gifts.” she responded, as if it were no big deal.

            “They caned ya for makin’ toys?! Christ, how old were ya?” He asked.

            “Twelve. A classmate saw, and turned me in. I was far too old for that sort of behavior anyways.” she shrugged. _Twelve?_!

            “Well… Yer not there now… What kinda’ toys did ya make?” he asked, rolling to his side to get a better look. She thought about it, and pushed herself up into a seated position. She held her hands out in front of her.

            “Hmm… It's been a while… let's see if I still remember how…” and she closed her eyes to concentrate. She slowly wove strings of light, sculpting them into something small in the palm of her hand. It never ceased to amaze him. She sat a small blue mouse onto the blanket. Its beady eyes stared back at Junkrat. _Okay, that's really fuckin’ cute!_ She tapped it with her finger, and it came to life, skittering right towards him.

            “Oi! Look at this little buggar go!” he chuckled, scooping the toy up. It ran little circles in his hand, tickling his palm. She reached over, and tapped it, and it immediately settled, as if asleep.

            “Can I keep it? Promise I won't tell no one,” he asked. Sym nodded, and hugged her knees to her chest.

            “Your turn for a secret,” she instructed, grabbing her wine glass. Junkrat mulled it over, and smirked.

            “Well, if that's how this works… Gotta hidden tattoo…” he said, raising a tempting eyebrow. Sym gave him a slightly worried once-over. He never wore a shirt, so there was really only one particular region he had covered up.

            “Dare I ask?” She said, as she took a much larger gulp of wine.

            “Left ass cheek. Says Bless This Mess,”, and at this, she utterly lost her composure. Her laugh echoed, and she tried covering her face. There was a twinkle in her eye, and her cheeks grew rosy. It was without a doubt the prettiest sound he ever heard, and it made his heart race, and a weird flutter started in his stomach. The laugh had been for him and him alone, and it was precious and beautiful. It made him feel special.

            “Got another secret?” he asked, when her laugh finally settled to a soft chuckle. He wanted to keep it going all night if he could. She thought about it, and pressed the tips of her fingers together.

            “….I find you unusually easy to talk to. Although, the wine may have a small part to play.” Junkrat chuckled.

            “That don't count as a secret. I'm charmin’ as fuck! C’mon! Tell me somethin’ I don't know!” he instructed. Sym thought about it some more.

            “I think I am finally starting to like it here. It is far from perfect, but I believe I will come to terms with that… in time.”. The embers popped and snapped. _Take all the time ya need._ She nudged Junkrat to remind him it was his turn.

            “Oh! Right! Well… First thing I ever stole when I got outta Junkertown? Stole coins outta’ fountain. Me an’ Hog got inta’ Sydney, an’ the first thing we saw was this fountain, right? Clean water was always rough ta come by back home. If yer lucky enough ta find some, ya guard it with ya life. So, we see this fountain, just sprayin’ water all over the place, an’ people just sat an’ watched it! Had so much of it, they could lit’rally just let it run all day f’the sake a bein’ pretty! Saw a bloke throw some change in there. Then I saw all the change in there, right? Needed a bit’a money if we wanted ta get some grub, so Hog an I waited till night, and went and snatched it all.” he started into his story.

            “Oh, you didn't! You stole change from a fountain?” she replied, both shocked, and also not.

            “Yeah, but, is it really stealin’? Hell, those people were just throwin’ it away! Figured if they had so much they could just throw it away, why can't I take it? ‘Sides, was able ta get a hot meal in a real restaurant f’once, so it was worth it. Not sayin’ I’m proud’a it, but ya do desperate things if ya get hungry ‘nough. Hadn’t eaten in three days. Them chips were the tastiest things I think I ever ate. Well, apart from that tasty hellfire a’yours.”. he explained.

            “I remember that kind of hunger…” she murmured. Her face had fallen to one tinged of bitterness. _Shit, no! This isn't how it's supposed ta go! I want ya smilin’!_

            “Oi! ‘'Nough a that! We're havin’ fun t’night, rememba’? We can share sob stories anotha’ time. C’mon. One more secret! An’ make it a nice one!” he ordered, poking the end of her nose. She tilted her head to think, her eyes gazing upwards. _Fuck, you're gorgeous._

            “Hmmm… Symmetra. That's not my real name. That's just a professional pseudonym…” she said, a tempting lilt to her voice. _I know that, but I want to hear ya say it._ She was waiting for him to respond.

            “Alright then… What’s your secret identity? When Symmetra of Overwatch removes her cape, who is she, really?” he asked. She waited some more, perhaps for dramatic effect.

            “It's Satya. Satya Vaswani,” she answered. He let the name roll through his brain. It sound so pretty coming from her.

            “Satya Vaswani. Hmm. I like it. SatyaSatyaSatya. Has a nice ring to it.”

            “And what about you?” she asked, prodding him with her foot. He rubbed his chin as if in thought.

            “Well, this may come as a shock, but Junkrat ain’t my real name either.” he started.

            “Well I should certainly hope not!” she cut in. _Cheeky!_

            “It's Jamison. Jamison Fawkes.” he finally answered. She was the first person he willingly admitted that to. She smiled.

            “I like that much better. But, your secret is safe with me,” she replied after some time. A yawn caught her off guard.

            “Goodness, it's late. I should really head to bed,” she said, and slipped her sandals back on. She stood up, stretching her arms, and stooped back down to grab her empty glass.

            “This was fun. I'll see you tomorrow, then… Jamison. Goodnight.”.

            “Sweet dreams, Satya,” he said, giving her a small wave. When she was finally out of sight, he flopped down onto the blanket with a huff, and ran his hand through his hair. _That… what was that?_ He wasn’t entirely sure, but he couldn’t remember ever feeling so content and happy. He closed his eyes, listening to the embers crackle and pop.

            “That was so damn sweet, nearly made me puke…” Hog rumbled. Junkrat shot out of his skin, sitting bolt upright, and clutched his chest.

            “FUCKING CHRIST, MATE! You tryin ta give me a bleedin’ heart attack?!” He snapped, trying to get his heart to start beating again. Hog let out a low rumbling laugh. Having regained his breath (slightly) he glared at the hulking Junker.

            “How long have ya been awake?!” he snapped. Hog was still laughing.

            “Whole fuckin’ time!” he snorted, ending with a wheeze.

            “The fuck, mate?!” Junkrat growled. For once, he wasn't particularly amused. Hog took a few breaths to calm his laughter.

            “Saw th’way you was lookin’ at ‘er in the pool. She’s a classy lady, Rat. Didn't want ya tryin any funny business.” he explained.

            “Ya played dead an’ watched us the whole time, but somehow I'm the creep! Cheeky fuck!” 

            “Ta be fair, had I known you was gonna play it smooth like that, woulda’ left ya to it.” Hog stood up, and started trudging off to the compound. He stopped, and looked over his shoulder.

            “I think yer bitin’ off more than y’can chew, but damn if it won't be entertainin’ ta’ watch.” He waved goodnight to his rather shaken friend. Junkrat stewed in annoyance, and looked over at Jesse, still sprawled out on the picnic table.

            “S’pose you was watchin’ too, eh?” he snapped, giving the cowboy a shove.

            “Hm, baby….Imyer..huckleb’ry…” Jesse mumbled in his sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sym joins the ladies for a night out. Junkrat and Roadhog spend a quiet night in. What could possibly go wrong?

            Sym thumbed through the hangers in her closet. _No. No. Heavens no! Don't I have anything that isn't some variation of a Vishkar uniform?_ Hana had reminded her about the upcoming Girls Night in the middle of a mission earlier in the week. Well, mission wasn't exactly the right word for it. The team had been hired on as glorified babysitters for a movie director. After the director had made some rather questionable script changes last-minute in filming, fans raised an uproar, and he had received a few death threats. Winston didn't believe there was any validity to the claims, but a job was a job, and the film studio paid them a rather hefty sum to keep an eye out at the film premiere. Winston’s hunch was correct, and Symmtra was rather thankful it was. She'd rather not take a bullet for some overpaid misogynist who shouted at her through the window of the limousine.

            “You've got a nice can, sweetheart, but you mind moving your ass out of the way? Trying to get to the red carpet!” the balding creep had barked. She wanted to slap him, but there were too many eyes on her, so she took the harassment and embarrassment in stride. Junkrat, on the other hand, didn't. He had used the rough metal of his fingers to etch in a not-so-polite message onto the side door when no one was looking. “King of the assholes!” adorned the vehicle, with crude phalluses and arrows pointing towards the window. She knew it had been him. She'd recognize his ‘handwriting’ anywhere, but with no witnesses (Roadhog had distracted the chauffeur while Junkrat went to town on the door), it had been chalked up to actors who had been snubbed for the lead role.

            “Junkrat, that was unprofessional… the A should have been capitalized.” she later told him.

            She shook her head from the memory with a small chuckle. She'd nearly drowned, been shot, and even befriended a bomb-obsessed Australian within the past three months. Surely a night out for drinks with the female half of the team wouldn't be difficult to handle. They had even delayed it when she had an unexpected conference call with Vishkar, just to make sure she could actually attend. She pulled out a dress from the back of the closet, having seemingly forgotten about its existence. It was dark violet, with both a plunging neck and back. She had bought it to wear on the last date she had ever scheduled before leaving Vishkar some eight months ago. That night had been VERY disappointing. _It may be a touch too revealing for a night out with friends, but it seems to be the only viable option_. She hung the dress up next to her bed, and collected the shoes she'd wear with it. She decided she’d accent in gold.

            Having selected her ensemble for later that night, she quickly dressed, and head into the workshop. She wanted to get an early start, so she could justify leaving an hour early to prepare for the evening. She was, of course, the first one in. She used the quiet hour to quickly tidy as much as possible. Junkrat had been on a painting kick, and while he had consistently made the effort to try and clean up after himself, Sym couldn't handle the handprints all over the place.

            Life in the workshop was by no means perfect, but it was getting better. Their spats had grown few and far between, and usually ended in apologies some thirty seconds later. It didn't stop Junkrat from being a massive distraction, both literally and figuratively. She'd occasionally find him standing over her, looking at her design screen while she worked. How had she not noticed how tall he was? She chalked it up to him almost always being hunched over. He seemed to be adding bulk, too. She heard rumor that he and Hog had started adding gym visits to their repertoire. He had even managed to add semi-regular showers to his schedule, too. Those days were perhaps the most difficult for focusing. Damn his freckles!

            Sym wasn't sure what they had been arguing about, but Junkrat and Torbörn came into the workshop hollering back and forth.

            “I’m tellin ya, twiggy, dat was a low blow!” Torb snapped, following behind Junkrat.

            “Oh, stuff it, ya bearded dipstick!” Junkrat snapped back. Sym spun around, her arms crossed in front of her.

            “Gentlemen, is that how we are to greet the day?” she scolded.

            “Sorry, Sym.” Junkrat apologized. Torb scowled.

            “Firstly, good mornin’ Symmetra.” he said, with over-the-top sweetness while he looked her way. His head snapped back to Junkrat. “Secondly, you should be apologizing ter me, yeh scrap-heap!”. Sym decided she needed to step in, or else nobody would be getting anything done.

            “Alright, you two. That is enough. Whatever the matter is, you need to settle it. Junkrat?” She asked.

            “Aw, c’mon Sym. I was just pokin’ fun. Ya both know I don't mean nothin’ by it…” he started.

            “What did Junkrat say?” she asked, turning to Torbörn.

            “Twiggy asked me when I was gonna’ build somet’in useful, like robot legs dat make me taller!” Torb shouted. _Oh for the love of…_

            “Junkrat, that was unkind, and you should apologize. And Torb, you should accept his apology with no further issue.” she said. She hated the embarrassed look on Junkrat’s face, but mostly because she didn't want to be the one to embarrass him. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and mumbled a quick “sorry”. Torb just as quickly accepted it, and they both went to their desks, neither looking at each other. Sym wanted to say something to Junkrat, but Torb was so close, and she didn't want him to hear her. It felt weird trying to console one friend in front of another. When Torb’s back was turned she quickly wove together another blue mouse. She sat it on the work table, and clicked it. It skittered to Junkrat, bumping his elbow. He looked down, gave a quick snort, and flashed her a grin. He snuck the mouse into his pocket.  _Good. Crisis averted._ She was getting used to navigating these tricky interactions.

            The day wore on, and she saw her time draw near. She finished up her finalized copy of her new teleporter schematics, and turned her computer off. When she stood up and grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair, both Junkrat and Torb turned in shock. She never left early.

            “Where the hell ya goin’?” Junkrat asked. Sym did up the last button.

            “I have an engagement this evening,” she coolly responded, and walked out. She rushed through her shower, and the nervousness was beginning to set in. _I am better than this. It is just a night out. This shouldn't be so difficult! I can talk with Junkrat just fine… I will talk to them. We will enjoy ourselves. It will be a good evening._ She finished the rest of her getting ready in her room, and head down to the hangar.

            “Oh good! There you are, Sym! Worried you might change your mind. Also, ha-cha-cha, lady!” Hana piped as Sym approached her car. Hana had been made the designated driver for the evening, and while she seemed sad about the decision, she said she preferred to ride in her own car as it was.

            “I'm sorry for my choice in dress. It is all I had available…” she apologized. Hana waved her hands.

            “Oh! Nonono! I meant you look really good! That's all!” Hana reassured. The other ladies joined them, and they all piled into the car. Hana let Sym ride shot-gun. The wine bar wasn't terribly far, and Hana was right. Sym loved it. It was a quaint little place that overlooked the sea. The summer heat was slowly transitioning towards a pleasantly warm evening, and the ladies chose to sit on the patio, which they had to themselves. _Good! No worries of other people seeing me dressed so inappropriately!_

            The ladies settled in with bottles of both red and white, as well as a small spread of cheese, fruit, and cured meats for pairing. Sym mainly observed their interactions at first, but her second glass loosened her tongue.

            “Oh! We should play a game!” Lena piped. She was always full of fun ideas. Sym wasn't sure what she had in mind for games. It wasn't like there were board games or puzzles lying around.

            “Ooo! I know a good one, and I think it's perfect, given our location. Are you ladies perhaps familiar with En Vino Veritas?” Angela asked. _The phrase, yes. In wine, truth, though I have never heard of a game with such a title…_ Angela began to explain the rules.

            “One person asks a question, and everyone has to finish their glass before giving their answer. Though, perhaps we should start with sips over glasses,” the blonde explained. It wasn't so much a game as a personal quiz, but Sym thought she might be able to glean some information about the women around her, so she decided she would play. Mei started first.

            “Okay! If you were an animal, what would you be?” she asked. _A silly question, but perhaps their answers will be surprisingly informative._ Lena said a cheetah. No surprise there. Hana (who drank soda instead of wine) said a rabbit. Also not a shock (it was her logo, of course). Angela said a dove, and Sym thought that was very fitting. Zarya said a bear. Sym gave her answer some thought.

            “A cat, I suppose.” she answered. The other ladies nodded in agreement. Mei said she'd probably be a seal pup. _Good. These questions appear to be innocent enough._ Lena went next.

            “Alright, loves! What gets ya goin? C’mon! What sort of thing makes ya weak in the knees just by lookin’ at it?” she asked. _Oh! Oh Lena! Why would you do this to me?!_ They went around. Hana said thick thighs. _That is too much information._ Angela said broad shoulders ( _yes, I agree on that as well)_. Zarya flashed a devilish grin.

            “Glasses…” She answered with a wink. _Oh, well, glasses do tend to flatter a face_. Eyes turned to Sym, and she took a nervous gulp of wine. They waited eagerly.

            “… freckles…. I like freckles…” she nearly whispered. Hana seemed to rub her chin in thought, but no one else reacted, so Sym breathed a sigh of relief. Mei said strong arms ( _well, who doesn't?)._ Lena finished with “a nice rear bumper!” and added an impish grin. The table erupted with giggles, and even Sym couldn’t suppress her laughter. Hana turned the conversation back to something less awkward with favorite films. Angela asked about favorite books. Zarya wondered where everyone would like to travel on vacation. Sym thought her question through.

            “What is your favorite food?” _There! That wasn't so hard!_

            “Crab legs!” (Mei)

            “I'm a sucker for scotch eggs!” (Lena)

            “I guess junk food doesn't count… Bibimbop!” (Hana)

            “Rich chocolate. I have a bit of a sweet tooth.” (Angela)

            “A hardy stew. Good for cold nights!” (Zarya)

            “Tandoori chicken, particularly if it has a nice smoky crispness to it.” Sym said, finishing her own question. They played another round, and while none of the questions were anything too shocking, Sym was starting to feel the wine. Her muscles were nice and relaxed, and she felt a pleasant warmth coursing through her. She even started to speak more, interjecting with her own observations on everyone's answers. The bottles of wine empty, Zarya stood up to fetch them some more from inside the bar. She came out a moment later with something that most definitely wasn't wine. She set a bottle of clear liquid onto the table, and a stack of shot glasses. Vodka, by the looks of it.

            “Alright, ladies. Time for a new game. Who here has played Never-Have-I-Ever?”

           

.           .           .           .           .

 

            “Been a while since we've gone for a ride, eh Hog? Ol’ Mayhem Mobile ain't seen propa’ love these days!” Junkrat rambled as he finished tightening a bolt. Hog merely grunted, and flicked through a magazine.

            “Awful quiet 'round here t’night, don’cha think?” the lanky Junker pointed out.

            “Girls Night,” he snorted in response.

            “Oh yeah! F’got about that.” Junkrat replied, pushing himself up from the motorcycle. He tried wiping the grease off his hands with a rag, but it didn't really seem to help. Something tugged at the back of his mind at the mention of Girls Night, but he brushed it off.

            “Wouldn't mind nickin’ somethin’ from the kitchens. Wanna come?” he offered.

            “Betta’ wash up first. Don't wanna be leavin’ a grease trail,” Hog suggested. Junkrat looked down, and Hog was right. Greasy black handprints and smudges adorned most of his midsection and face.

            “Three times in one week… must be a new record!” he cackled, and he head to the showers. Grease was a pain in the ass to scrub off, but he managed. _How the hell did I manage ta get it down there?_  Freshly washed, he headed to the kitchens with Hog. They rummaged through the cupboards, finding several bags of crisps and biscuits, and grabbed a six-pack to wash it down with. 

            They settled in the common room to watch an action flick, but Junkrat kept yelling criticisms of the explosions on screen. Roadhog changed the channel to a monster movie, but Junkrat kept laughing at the poor special effects and bad acting. The mammoth Junker found some romantic period drama, and Junkrat gave him a sideways glance.

            “Mate, are ya fuckin serious right now?”. Roadhog clicked back to the monster movie. Two hours later, the snacks and beer long gone, Roadhog plodded off to bed. Junkrat clicked through the channels, but nothing good was on. He hunched down towards the game console, and looked for the alien game Hana had shown him. He found it, but a different case caught his eye. It appeared to be a puzzle game. Next to it lied a bright blue controller. He raised an eyebrow, but grabbed the two items. To his delight, the controller lit up every time he pushed a button, and he couldn't quite place why, but he loved it.

            The puzzle game was difficult, and frustrating, but also enthralling. Every time he made a correct choice, it felt like a small victory. Every time he messed up, he got annoyed, but he grit his teeth, and would go back to it with renewed determination. Eventually, he heard the distinctive sounds of drunken shenanigans echoing through the compound. _Looks like Girls Night is over._ The conversations he overheard made him snicker quietly to himself.

            “S’rry, Hana. I didin mean’a barf in y’car. Iz a pretty car!” Mei slurred.

            “We got ALL the way home, and you could have just puked on the ground outside! Did you have to turn back and projectile all over the back seat?!” A noticeably sober Hana snapped.

            “Iz okay. Lil seal pup jus’ can't handle her fish!” Zarya consoled.

            “Oh… Don’ say fish!” Mei warned, ending with a gagging sound. Junkrat was in hysterics. The echoes of their voices died away, and left in its wake were the click of heels slowly approaching the common room. Lena, perhaps. Or maybe Angela. A figure in violet walked in.

            “Sym?!”. He had to pick his jaw up from the floor. _Oh, what are you tryin’ ta do ta me?!_ The green sundress from the barbecue could shove it! He had a new favorite, now! The heels were tall, the skirt was short, her legs were phenomenal, and the neckline plunged enticingly low. She strode over, and plopped down on the sofa next to him. She kicked her shoes off, and popped her feet up onto the coffee table. Her toes were painted gold. She reached forward, grabbing one of the bags of crisps, and started digging through.

            “You went out?!” he blundered. _No shit! She doesn't exactly wear that stuff t’the workshop!_ He had assumed that her “engagement” had something to do with Vishkar, or something professional. She'd never said anything about joining the other ladies.

            “Mm-hmm…” she responded, realizing the bag was empty, and sat it back down on the table. She leaned her head back against the sofa. The light caught the shimmer of her gold eyeshadow, and the glisten of her wine-red lipstick. She reached back, unclipping her hair, and it tumbled down from the elegant twist she had it swept up in. She tossed the clip unceremoniously onto the table.

            “Did… Did ya have fun?” he asked, trying to keep his voice from hitting a higher octave.

            “Mm-hmm…” she answered. Even in the dim light of the television, he could see a familiar rosy glow across her cheeks and nose. _Is she… Oh my god! Is Sym bombed out?_ She seemed to be using all of her concentration to focus on the TV screen.

            “Whatta' you watchin’?” she slurred. _Yep. She is SO drunk!_ Junkrat held the controller up.

            “Just playin’ a game…” he answered, giving the blue controller a wiggle. She stared at the controller, and then the television, and then back to the controller, and once again to the television for good measure.

            “Hey! Tha’s… tha’s my game! An’ MY controller!” she said, poking him in the chest with a sharp finger. She stared at his chest, letting her finger linger a moment longer than it probably should have.

            “These are yours?” he asked, utterly surprised. She nodded.

            “Yes! Hana go’them f’me. We're best friends now. Sh’said so!” Sym explained. Junkrat laughed. _You are the weirdest cutest hottest thing I've ever seen!_ Sym held her hand out.

            “Give 'em back. Y’didn ask permishjin!” she not-so-politely requested. It had been a dull night, and Junkrat was feeling playful.

            “Y’know what? Don't think I will. I think I'm just gonna’ keep… pushin’ yer buttons!” he said, wiggling his eyebrows and pressing buttons repeatedly.

            “Don’! You’ll get soot allov’r em!” she said, reaching to grab the controller from him. He leaned out of her way, holding the controller just out of reach.

            “Oi! I showered t’day!” he reminded, giving a sweep up the length of him for her inspection. Her eyes locked on his chest and abs for a moment before turning back to the device in his hands. She reached over again, and he pulled away again. He held the controller up above his head.

            “Ya want it? Come an’ get it!” he teased. He certainly didn't expect her to comply! Suddenly she was clambering on top of him, reaching for his long arm. Junkrat was a bit taken aback, but kept the item just out of her reach. She pushed up, her breasts pressed against his face, but that fact didn't seem to register with her. _Christ, you can just smother me ta death right here, I don't fuckin care!_ She pulled back, her hand still locked around his forearm, and she had a look of determination in her eyes. She was still perched on top of him, and his heart was slamming in his chest.

            “I want it!” she purred. _Oh, did ya have ta say it like that?!_ Junkrat licked his dry lips, and gave her a roguish grin.

            “Yeah? I'm sure ya do. Whatcha’ gonna’ do about it?” he teased. She stared into his eyes, and her eyelids began to droop. _Is she really gonna?… Yep! Yep!_ She pressed her lips against his. It was soft at first, but there was a fire there that quickly consumed them both. Junkrat’s brain could not handle what was happening. 

_Ohmygodfuckingshitholyfuckshitgoddammit! Christ, that's her tongue! Oh my god she is so damn perfect. Even her spit is sweet. She will be the death of me!_ He could taste the alcohol on her mouth, and his arm slowly lowered, wrapping up around her. He dropped the controller, and thread his fingers through her hair, pulling her in closer. Her hands slowly slid up his chest; one palm warm and soft, the other cool smooth metal.

            _This… this has ta stop. She's drunk. She's sooooo drunk. Okay, maybe a bit longer… NO! This will spiral outta control. This.. This… I need ta stop!_ And, as if she could hear his thoughts, she pulled away. She slowly slid back, climbing off of his lap. She had an oddly smug look of satisfaction on her face. She bent down, scooping something up from the ground. She held up the controller, giving it a little shake.

            “That was too easy!” she mused, and she slowly stumbled out of the common room, barefoot. Junkrat, a panting heap of excitement and confusion, simply let her walk out. _Did that just happen? No! It couldn't have! I drifted off on the couch! That can'ta been real!_ His heart was slamming. His chest was heaving.

            “Well, that was interesting!” Hana piped, and Junkrat nearly fell off the couch at the sound of her voice. His head whipped over to the side entrance of the common room. _I swear to fucking Christ, between you and Hog‼!_

            “What did you see?!” he snapped. Hana shrugged.

            “Just Sym stumbling out of here with her game controller, but I think my imagination can fill in the rest.” she deviously grinned.

            “….nothin’ happened…” he said. She shrugged again.

            “If you say so.” she replied, turning to leave. She stopped, and looked over her shoulder.

            “You got something on your lip, by the way…” she winked, and waved goodbye. Junkrat ran has hand quickly over his mouth. Smeared along the back was Sym’s dark red lipstick.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sym wakes up with a massive hangover, and hazy memories. Junkrat debates whether or not to tell her, but not before having a grand ol' time.

            _I pray to the gods that they see fit to take me now. I am ready for death._ Sym was in utter misery, and the gods were not obliging. She had awoken from a very… pleasant… dream, only to find a crushing hangover, the likes of which she'd never seen. The room was so damn bright. Her mouth felt coated and dry. She was fairly certain her skull would split in two at a moment’s notice. She had never been hit by a bus before, but she was confident it would have been a better alternative to what she felt at that moment. She pulled herself upright, trying to gauge what had happened.

            _I went out with the others…. I drank an obscene amount of alcohol… we had some nice conversations… and some lewd ones…Oh! I told them that thing! That thing I swore I'd never tell anyone! And then we returned. I must have gone to bed. Yes, I must have, because I had that amazing kiss dream…. What?_ Symmetra’s train of garbled thoughts came to an end when she noticed something hard and plastic in her bed. She reached down under her peacock-blue sheets, afraid of what she may find. She pulled out her game controller. She stared at it, confused as to how that would wind up in her bed. _Or maybe there’s more to the story? That kiss was definitely a dream, though._

            In her dream, she had been clever and charming. Most of it was hazy. She couldn't even remember what the guy looked like; only that he was tall, and that he smelled nice, and she felt at ease around him. The dream later evolved into something more primal, and she had enjoyed that part immensely, too.

            Sym pulled her blanket back. She was still in her dress from last night. She was never one to sleep in her clothes. Very slowly, she stepped out of bed, and stumbled to her water closet. She looked in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, with dark circles surrounding them. Her makeup was smeared across her face, though most of her lipstick seemed gone. _Oh, that will not do._ She quickly washed her face with cold water, and though she thought the shock might kill her, it helped bring her brain into focus. _I need water, aspirin, and tea. No! Coffee! And toast._ Her plan was easier said than done. She went over to her dresser, using the wall to steady herself. With some effort, she changed out of the dress into the only truly casual clothes she had; her running shorts and top. She looked at the clock on her nightstand. _10:37?!_ She knew she wasn't expected at work, but she still had standards!

            In the mess hall, she learned that misery loved company. She was by no means the only woman suffering from a massive hangover. Lena was donning considerably darker goggles, and covering her ears. Mei’s head was planted firmly into the table. _Is she even alive?!_ Zarya was drinking something that wasn't entirely orange juice (“hair of dog, from one that bit me!”), and Angela looked downright haggard. Hana, though not hungover, was still rather irritable. Sym vaguely remembered Mei getting sick in her car. They all groaned a greeting to Sym as she made her way to her usual spot (well, everyone except for Mei).

            She sat in her usual corner. Every lady was at their own table, in various stages of coping. Sym needed water, but she had spent all her energy just getting down to the mess hall, and just sat in place. At least she finally felt like she was part of the group; a Sisterhood of Suffering. A shrill whistle came drifting in. It switched to a cheerful hum, and all the while, a familiar stomp-click grew closer and closer. _Must he walk so loud?!_ Junkrat came prancing through the mess hall with an arm load of various sundries. A sports drink for Mei and Lena, water for Zarya and Angela. He came up to Hana, handed her a candy bar, and pinched her cheek. Lastly, he came up to Sym, and handed her a bottle of aspirin, a bottle of water, and a banana. He stopped humming.

            “For the potassium!” he said, and he skipped out of the mess hall humming some more. It wasn't until after he was gone that she recognized the archaic tune: “Girls just wanna have fun”

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            Junkrat woke up in a terrific mood, which was impressive in itself, given the early hour. The memory from the previous night had repeated itself continuously in his dreams, and he was completely fine with that. He looked down, noticing the prominent “tent” he had pitched. _Oh, don't you get started, mate! Last night was a fluke._ He told himself that was all it had been, but damn if he wasn't going to enjoy every bit of it! And he wasn’t going to lie. Deep down, he really hoped it was a sign of her actual wants and intentions. Alcohol was considered a truth serum, right? Liquid courage?

            He had made his way through the corridors, and head into the kitchen, humming all the while. He had seen the suffering faces of the female half of the team as they slowly trickled into the mess hall, and he just couldn't stop himself from having a little fun at their expense. He had gathered up some go-to hangover supplies, and skipped through, gifting them like some deranged half-dressed Father Christmas. The look on Sym’s face told him she didn't remember a damn thing. _Oh, I hope I'm there ta see her face when she does!_ It was all just too damn perfect!

            He waited in the hangar, and eventually Pipsqueak came out to her car, with a bucket and rags in tow. She grumbled the entire time, filling it with soapy water at the wash station. With her back turned, he hid behind her car, crouching low so she wouldn't see him. She opened the sliding door, and pulled a face at the smell. She quickly rolled all the windows down to air it out, gagging. Frustrated, Hana began to wet a rag.

            “Gonna’ kill Zarya! Fuckin’ vodka! Goddammit!” she stewed. She lifted the heavy bucket up to set it inside the vehicle.

            “Kiss yer motha’ with that mouth?” he asked while popping up through the window. Hana shrieked, and the bucket slipped out of her hands, splashing all over her. She fell back in the suds, staring up at him.

            “What the shit, dude?!” she snapped. Junkrat was once again in hysterics.

            “THAT’S for last night!” he pointed, while laughing. Hana flung a wet rag at his face, but the lopsided smile she was sporting told him she wasn't actually mad.

            “If you're going to pull that shit, then you at least have to help me!” she snapped. Junkrat nodded, and opened the other door. Hana quickly refilled her bucket. Junkrat looked at the back seat, and grimaced.

            “Somebody perform an exorcism back here, or what?” he commented, staring at the ceiling, where a surprising amount of the mess still clung. She groaned.

            “Friggin’ Mei! She should be the one cleaning this mess, but Zarya says ‘her embarrassment and hangover is punishment enough’. Which is total bullshit, because I was the dee-dee last night! They all should be kissing my ass!” she whined while beginning to scrub. Junkrat soaked his rag, and started scrubbing as well.

            “So everyone had a good time but you?” he ventured. Hana shrugged.

            “Oh, trust me, I had fun. Never seen the group like that! Got a lotta’ dirt on those ladies, now. Actually wrote a few choice things down, just so I wouldn't forget!”.

            “… like what?” he asked, feigning nonchalance, but curiosity piqued. Hana stuck her tongue out.

            “Nice try, but nothing escapes the sacred bonds of sisterhood.” she replied.

            “S’that means yer not gonna say anythin’ ‘bout…?” he trailed off.

            “Oh! THAT! I thought you said nothin’ happened!” she snickered, “but no, of course not. Wouldn't tell a soul.” _Good! Sym would probably die of embarrassment if ev’ryone found out._  It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to remember. He just hoped it wouldn’t happen in front of everyone. They went back to scrubbing, and were interrupted by the loud thumps of Roadhog’s steps heading towards the car.

            “Sym and Rat made out last night!” she immediately shouted to the larger Junker. Roadhog stopped in his tracks, and Junkrat immediately glared at her.

            “Oi! What the fuck, Pipsqueak?!”.

            “Oh, c’mon! Piggy doesn't count! Who's he gonna’ tell?!” she said, waving off his disapproval. Roadhog huffed, dug into his pocket, and handed her something. It was a crumpled bill. She looked at it and pulled a face.

            “Little light. I thought we agreed a hundred.” she said, pocketing the bill.

            “She was three-sheets t’the wind. That don't count. Think it's nice ‘nuff I'm givin’ ya half!” he rumbled back. Junkrat put two and two together.

            “Are… are you two placin’ bets?!” he snapped, appalled. Hog rumbled a laugh.

            “Can't get nothin’ past ya, can I?”

            “That's… that's fucked! Th’both a’ya are fucked in th’head!” he told them, though in the end he wasn't completely surprised. They both continued to laugh at his expense.

            “Aw, c’mon! It's not like that!” Hana started.

            “Yeah, well, piss off! She's my friend an’ I don't like the idea a you two gits embarrassin’ her!” he snapped. His words silenced their laughing.

            “She's my friend, too. We’re not going to be assholes about it. Just nice to see two people happy together!” She snapped back, hands on her hips. He held up a finger to say something, but nothing would come out, so he snapped his mouth shut, and started scrubbing the ceiling. The silence was awkward as hell. _Happy together?_

            “Did you know she's into freckles?” Hana chirped. Junkrat threw the rag on the floor of the car in exasperation, and stomped out of the hangar. She had a very self-satisfied smirk on her face. He knew they weren't going to say anything, but he hated the fact that this was all just a form of entertainment to them. After a few minutes of grumbling and wandering, he shrugged his shoulders. _Alright, so it's a little funny, but still none a’their damn business!_ A tap on his shoulder shook him from his thought _s_.

            “I require your assistance,” a still clearly hungover Sym told him. Surprised, Junkrat pointed at himself.

            “Me?”

            “Yes! You! Everyone is too hungover to remember what happened, and Hana said you were awake when we came in last night!” she hissed with slight annoyance. “I'm hoping you will be able to help me gain some insight as to what happened!”  _Oh, this’ll be int’ristin’!_

            “Alright, s’what’s the problem. From the look’a it, you lot had quite a bit’a fun!”. Sym looked around to make sure no one was around.

            “I do not remember what happened after we left the bar. I feel that something of relative significance happened. Can I trust your discretion on this?”

            “Of course!” he answered, flashing a toothy grin.

            “I am being serious!” she hissed again.

            “So’m I!” but his grin made her think otherwise. She conceded with a “very well”, and beckoned him to follow her. He wasn't sure where exactly they were headed, but suddenly they seemed to be in a corridor of dormitories much like his own. Sym paused in front of a door. She peeked to make sure no one was around, and quickly opened it up. Junkrat instinctively followed in. _Oh! This is…_

            “Apologies for the mess. I am in no state to clean today.” Her room was sumptuous, but looked as though it had never been lived in. The bed was only the slightest bit rumpled. Nothing littered her floor. The bookshelf was perfectly organized. The elegant drapes hung with equal amounts of folds. A painting with a colorful mandala design hung above the immaculately clean desk. In short, it was everything his room wasn't. He didn't dare touch anything, though it took some serious control to keep himself from jumping all over the bed to give it a more thorough rumple. She went to her nightstand, and opened the drawer. She pulled out the game controller.

            “I woke up to find this in my bed.”

            “I mean, if that's what gets ya goin’, I ain't here ta judge,”. The bloodshot glare she gave him was equal parts hilarious and terrifying. Junkrat cleared his throat.

            “I mean… why don't we try retracin’ ya steps?” he suggested with a shrug. “We can skip the hangar, obviously. Nothin’ happened in there!” he added, taking the controller from her. Hog and Hana were probably still in there, and the last thing he wanted was for her to remember in front of an audience. He wasn't sure what, if anything, would jostle her memory. They started from just outside the hangar.

            “Mm… We came through. Everyone was hungry. Well, not Mei. Yes. Yes. I passed through, because all of the bags of crisps we gone… I never crave those. So odd,” She murmured to herself. It was with much effort that Junkrat kept a straight face. _Sorry ‘bout eatin’ all those._

            “Yes, Angela and Lena stayed in the mess hall. They sat there and there. I followed Hana. Oh! She was yelling at Mei for getting sick. Mm… Oh! And Zarya was helping. I didn't follow them for long. I think I went to the… yes! The common room. Now why would I go there?”. _Shit! Somebody’s in there!_ Junkrat hopped in front of her, cautioning her to wait. He ducked in. _Shit! Torb and the giant!_ The pair sat on either ends of the sofa, watching the same monster movie from last night. Junkrat quickly dashed in, throwing himself over the back of the sofa, wedging himself between Torbörn and Reinhardt.

            “Oi! What’re we watchin’? Oh! Blood Moon 7? Is that the one where the werewolves are act’lly aliens all along? Y’know, big plot twist endin’?” he asked rather loudly. The two stared at him in utter disbelief before scowling.

            “Vhy did you ruin de ending?!” Reinhardt roared. Torb said it was poor spoiler etiquette, and the duo left the common room growling. Junkrat motioned for Sym to come in. She went back to retracing her steps. She gazed around, and looked at the couch.

            “Yes! I came in here because somebody else was in here. Odd. Was somebody else up?” she innocently asked him. He thought back to the image last night, when things had started stirring. _In a manner a speakin’…_ though he simply shrugged.

“Oh! And they had snacks. I was absolutely famished.”. She sat down in the same spot, and patted the cushion next to her absentmindedly. Junkrat took the spot he had been in last night, and he kept the controller in his hand. _Oh, it's gonna’ happen…_ She noticed her shoes still on the floor. No one had moved them, and her hair clip was still on the coffee table. She paused, looking at them, and her face slowly started to turn. _Aaaannnnndddd…._

            “That person was…!” Her head snapped around. Junkrat wiggled his eyebrows, pressing the buttons to the controller repeatedly. _There it is!_ A look of utter shock came across her. Her eyes bulged, her mouth hung open. She slowly brought a hand to her mouth.

            “Yyyep!” he grinned.

            “OH. MY. GODSssuuhhhfff...”. Her eyes rolled, and she dropped like a sack, cracking her head on the edge of the coffee table as she fainted.

            “Well, I didn’t think th’kiss was THAT good…” he lied to himself.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            “Ah ha! You are awake!” Angela smiled. Sym was on the floor of the common room, her friend stooped over her.

            “You really mustn’t push yourself. You are still hungover, and your body needs rest. I was able to heal the bump on your head, but there's no better cure for a hangover quiet like going to bed and starting again tomorrow.” Angela chided. _How is she so chipper when she looks to be in such misery?_

            “Junkrat? Will you please escort Sym to her room? I am still assisting Mei who’s now in the med bay.” Angela requested. She was out of the common room before Symmetra could protest. _NonononononoNO! Angela! You said you were my friend! Do not leave me here!_ Before she realized it, Junkrat had her up on her feet, an arm wrapped around her shoulders to keep her stable. He had to hunch considerably, but he did so sporting the smuggest grin to ever exist. As they rounded the corner to her corridor, she finally found her voice.

            “Junkrat!” she whispered. He chuckled.

            “Yes, Sym?”

            “Because we are friends, I am giving you fair warning. When this hangover is gone, I will most likely kill you. Possibly in your sleep.” she warned. Junkrat kept chuckling. They approached her door, and she opened it. She stepped through, and turned, staring, not sure what to say. Her brain was in full shut-down at the moment. So many thoughts coursed through it, they all jammed up, and seemed to get themselves stuck. If smoke came pouring out of her ears, she wouldn't have been the least bit surprised.

            “I rather enjoyed it…” he mused. The smugness never left his face. _I have… no words. They have failed me._

            “How’za 'bout you?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Her cheeks ignited, and she closed the door in his face.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sym tries to make heads and tails of what happened, and takes the time to make some careful observations. She comes to a rather unexpected conclusion.

            Sym, fortunately, did not make good on her promise to kill him, but oh, there were moments where she gave it some serious consideration. It took a long while for her brain to reset. She decided the best course of action was to tackle the situation like any of the ones she had at Vishkar. _Yes. I will break this down into priority issues_. At that moment, her top priority was ridding herself of the hangover. She had taken the aspirin, and eaten the banana, and while she was still mortified at the mere thought of him, she was thankful for his foresight. She drank some more water. _My hangover will not last forever. It is but a moment in time._ It was often the most helpful mantra she had learned. Just the mere reminder of that fact seemed to help.

            The next issue was the embarrassment she suffered in front of the other women. _The night out had been too much… or had it?_ From an alcohol-consumption stand-point, obviously. It was a novice mistake, and they all should have protested when Zarya brought out the vodka. Sym had only been drunk three other times in her life, and she had never been a fan. It always made her feel like she wasn't in proper control of herself. Still, it was a mistake they had all made together, and she supposed she was fortunate that none of them were likely to remember too many details. But Hana… _Oh! She had been sober, and likely remembers everything I said!_   Sym brushed the idea away. _She is my friend. She bound all our secrets with a pact of sisterhood!_ Those were the words Hana had used, and while a bit theatrical, she seemed very genuine about it. _I should speak with her, regardless. Perhaps she will help me make sense of this mess I've gotten myself in._

            Sym went to her desk to get her tablet. She pulled it out of the drawer and looked down to see the pressed daisy. The sight of the flower made her cheeks ignite all over again. _I must tackle one problem at a time. First, I must message Hana._ She took a look at her messages, and found that one was already waiting for her.

            **I'm really glad you came out. Hope you had fun. Next time I promise we won't let Zarya pick drinks. Also, don't worry. I promise that thing you told us stays between us! ;) -D.Va**

She breathed a sigh of relief. _I can trust Hana._ Sym stared at the screen, mulling her choice of words over.

            **I need to speak with you about last night (at your convenience, of course). -Symmetra**

A whopping thirty seconds later, there was a reply. _She's rather eager._

**Coming over now! I'll bring coffee!**

Sym huffed. A knock, or rather, thud, quickly hit her door, and she opened it up to see a very excited Hana sporting two full coffee cups, and a phone tucked under her arm. Sym took one of the mugs from her and invited her in.

            “Huh. So this is what your place looks like. Very… tidy? I like the choice in colors.” She offered as a form of compliment. Hana sat herself down at the desk, and Sym couldn't help but be reminded of Angela’s visit not so very long ago. That had been a considerably different experience.

            “Thank you for coming at such short notice.” she started. _Too formal. This is not a presentation. This was so much easier last night_. Hana sipped her coffee. Sym finally took a sip of hers, and tried not to make a face. It was bitter, burnt, and scalding hot. She set it down on her nightstand, hoping Hana wouldn't notice.

            “I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night. I believe I was out of line, and said some things I shouldn't have. I am sorry if I caused you any discomfort or embarrassment.” Sym started. Hana burst into a fit of laughter.

            “Oh my god, are you kidding?! Last night was a blast! I mean, I'm sad you all overdid it, but hey! That's why I was there! And stop worrying! There's nothing wrong with having fun!” she reassured.

            “Fun?! Oh, Hana, I…” but suddenly there was a phone in her face, and Hana was scrolling through pictures. She saw herself smiling with Lena. Another picture showed Angela giving her a hug, their heads tossed back in laughter. The next, Mei was delighting them all with an attempt at juggling shot glasses. The very next were looks of panic and several broken shot glasses. Then, everyone laughing about the broken shot glasses. That last picture also had a very irate waiter standing in the background. Sym had been laughing too hard to even notice the waiter at the time. Hana clicked to one last image of both of them looking at the camera, their pinkies locked together. There was a warm smile on her face, and it was the first picture Sym ever saw of herself that she actually liked.

            “Looks like fun to me!” Hana said. She was right, of course. The hangover and confusion had completely distracted her from the realization that she did, in fact, have a good time. It was, surprisingly, exactly what she needed to see. Suddenly, she didn't feel so embarrassed. She didn't feel like she made a fool of herself. She didn't feel like anyone judged her for the things she said. She felt that same familiar warmth thread through her. The same as it did at the cafe over a month ago.

            “It appears that I did. Though, I do fear I may have admitted more than I cared to with that silly drinking game.” she said.

            “Well, no worries on that. Nobody even remembers playing that game, last I checked. And if they did, they probably didn't even remember that you admitted to liking an…” Sym’s hands were slapped over Hana’s mouth so quickly, she nearly knocked the poor girl right out of the chair. Hana snorted and laughed.

            “Oh my gawd, your face! Sorry! Couldn't help it! I swear I won't ever tell! You know I won't, right? Like, that pinkie-promise is legally binding! If I do, you have every right to break my pinkie.” she quickly apologized. Sym took several breaths in to steady herself.

            “I swear, Hana, you are nearly as bad as Jun-”, Sym cut herself off. _No, now is not a good time to bring him up. That is for a later time._ She grabbed her coffee, and proceeded to drain it. If Hana thought it strange, she said nothing.

            “So… how does a trip to an art gallery sound for the next Girls Night?” Hana asked, interrupting Sym’s internal screaming at both the memory of the kiss and the still-scalding coffee.

            “That sounds like it will not end in embarrassment and hangovers. I think that is a much better idea,”.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            Sym never thought life in the workshop could possibly get any more awkward, but the following three days were downright painful. She attempted to just ignore the issue, and hoped he would never bring it up. Surprisingly, he did just that, which she was immensely grateful for at first. But three days of staring at the elephant in the room only seemed to make the elephant, well, bigger, and much more difficult to ignore. 

            “I rather enjoyed it… How’za ‘bout you?” he had asked. Surely, he was jesting… but a voice in the back of her head told her otherwise. _He liked it. You know he did… and you did, too._  She tried to quash that voice as much as possible. It had no business mucking everything up. She had just made peace with the fact that they were friends only a few weeks ago. Even IF she were interested in him in that way, it was much too soon to even think about that, right? 

            He didn't say anything. He didn't tease her, or even elude to the kiss in the slightest, but it didn't make anything easier for her. She wanted to be mad at him, but she was the one who stupidly climbed on top of him, trying to be all seductive, and he never pushed her farther or took advantage of her state. If anything, she almost felt sorry for very clearly blind-siding him. The memory of his reaction was proof of that, and in retrospect, there was something enjoyable about turning him into a puddle of panting confusion. She half-expected him to loudly brag about it to anyone who’d listen to him, but he didn't. The faces and interactions with the people around her was proof enough. No one seemed to even realize she had even been drunk in the first place, save for Hana, and even she wasn't made privy to what happened.

            She could vaguely remember her drunken thought-process. She thought she was being clever and funny. The plan nearly backfired when she lost herself in the moment. He was so tall, and clean, and WHY did he have to have freckles, and that smile, and those hipbones, and WHY WAS HE ALWAYS SHIRTLESS?! In the end, the only thing that stopped her was the feeling of his stirring underneath her, and it was fortunately enough to remind her that it was dangerous game she was playing. She wondered how far she would have taken things otherwise. She also wondered how far he would have let her.

_This is idiotic. I am nearly 30! I’m too old for this!_ She tried focusing on things about him that she didn't like. _He is loud, filthy, and obnoxious!_ Though, lately, he seemed to know when she needed quiet, and time to herself, as though he had been observing her habits and what made her tick. If the people around her started to overwhelm her, he'd step in and carefully distract them so she could step away and be by herself. It was so subtle; she hadn't even noticed it at first. Had he always been doing that?

_He is crude, and lacks manners._ Yes, he most certainly was, but he appeared to be making strides in that as well, and it occurred to her that a life on the run often did not lend itself towards making manners a priority. His language had always been vulgar, but she wouldn't lie to herself. Verbal vulgarities had always been a guilty pleasure of hers. It was why she never lectured him on his excessive use of profanity in the workplace.

            _He is chaos incarnate._ On paper, yes. Anyone who launched themselves into battle with such gleeful abandon surely was. His love for explosives was truly a form of madness… or was it? On the third day, he went out to the testing field to fire off a few new designs, and despite her better judgement, she snuck out to watch.

            The blasts where loud, and she regretted purposefully putting herself anywhere in close proximity of them, but in the end, she discovered something that put him in a whole new light. He stood, his back towards her, and she watched as he hit each detonator, and pulled every pin. He was surprisingly still. Calm. He was in complete control. It was then she could see what his fascination was with explosives. It wasn't entirely the destruction they could create. It was the fact that he could bend those forces to his will. In a life of uncertainty, there he had control. There was, in fact, a method to his madness. 

            The smoke from the last blast dissipated, and she heard him quietly chuckle to himself as he scribbled into one of his many tattered notebooks. He turned around rather quickly, and she didn't have time to hide anywhere. The look of shock on his face last only a moment before it was replaced by a cheek-splitting grin. He waved.

            “Well, certainly wasn't expectin’ an audience! Whatcha’ think?” he asked. It took her a moment to find her voice.

            “They seem… effective,”. She wasn't sure what else to say. He motioned her over, and before she realized it, she had walked right up to him. _I need to say something. Anything. I can't have this looming over my head any further._

            “I need to…”

            “Sorry about the other day. Shouldn’ta poked fun at ya ‘bout it.” he cut her off. His sudden apology was thoroughly unexpected.

            “Oh…” she replied. _Now what do I say?_

            “Just… kinda’ caught me off guard is all. Didn’t know whether ta tell ya or not. Thought it might be fun ta let ya figure it out… I wasn’t lyin’. I really did like it. Kinda’ hoped you woulda’ liked it too… The mem’ry, I mean…” he awkwardly explained. _He’s nervous!_ Something tugged at her, and before she knew it, the words tumbled out.

            “…I did...” she murmured. She looked away, embarrassed, but not before seeing his face turn to something. Shock? Surprise? Was it a good kind of surprise, or bad? He rummaged into one of his many pouches, and pulled out a very small mine, and a detonator.

            “Got one more… wanna try it?” he offered.

            “I… I don't…” she started, truly debating whether or not she actually did. At first thought, absolutely not, but this was his world, and he was offering her a chance to be a part of it. And then there was the small voice of curiosity that wondered what it would feel like.

            "Just a lil one. Ya trust me, right?” he added. _Trust?_ Amazingly enough, despite her better judgment, she realized she did. She took a steadying breath.

            “Yes.” she hesitantly answered. His smile could not be contained. She looked down. The mine had a little blue mouse painted on it, and the sight of it made her cheeks hot. He quickly ran out to the field, placing the mine in the scorched grass. He came back, handing her the detonator, and he stood behind her. Her hand shook as she flipped the cap up, and her thumb hesitated. _This is an item of destruction. I have no idea how big the blast will be, or how loud it will roar._ Her attention and trepidation were interrupted when she realized he was suddenly standing VERY close behind her, and bent even closer to her ear.

            “Want some help?” he murmured. His voice sent a shiver up her spine. She nodded. The rough metal of his hand slid over hers, wrapping around both her and the detonator. He very delicately pushed his thumb over hers, pressing the button down. A tiny pop and fizz started, followed by the saddest little ‘fweep’ ever. In comparison to the other blasts, it was downright pitiful. She was fairly certain she'd seen firecrackers do more damage. _A dud?_  

            “I call ‘em squeakers.”. Sym was at a loss for words. She looked up at him with utter confusion.

            “Fig’ered it's best ta start slow. Work our way up t’the big stuff, right?” he smirked. He snagged the detonator from her hand, and walked off. A weird smile etched across her lips, and then immediately vanished as soon as she realized what was happening to her.  _Oh, oh no. Nonononono! This wasn’t part of the plan! This wasn’t supposed to happen! We’re supposed to just be friends!_


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sym and Rat chit-chat during what is supposed to be another routine mission. Things don't go exactly as planned, and the results are grim.

            “So… Whatcha’ wearin’?” Junkrat’s voice echoed over her headset. _I should have never given him access to my private channel._

            “The same thing I was wearing four hours ago when we landed…” Sym answered back.

            “I know. Just like thinkin’ 'bout it in detail. Didn't get a good look at’cha ’fore we all took off. Boss was jabberin’ m’ear off, tellin’ me ta lie low.”.

            “Yes, well, from what I understand, you've left quite the mark here in the past.” she mused. Dorado had been the final nail in the coffin that landed the $25 million bounty on Junkrat’s and Roadhog’s heads. It was with MUCH reassuring to the mayor that Winston was able to work out a temporary stay from local police involvement. The Junkers had to agree to take the job on for free in exchange for the leniency. It was barely a tenth of the amount they stole a year ago.

            “Yeah, I'm talented like that.”. Sym smirked at his reply. The past month had been a rather interesting experiment. If she were to be completely honest, she wasn't even sure what to call… whatever it was that was going on between them. It really didn't seem to be much more than friendship with some added flirting, of which she found she was completely inept at. Their timing didn't help, either. After the incident with the ‘squeaker’, work began pouring in for the team, most of which was absolutely pointless “babysitting” jobs. This one had been no different, although the location wasn't half bad. Dorado was celebrating its quinquennial with a week of events, culminating in a massive festival to wrap it all up, and extra security was greatly needed. Even more so with word that Los Muertos was back to its old antics. 

            “Penny for yer thoughts,” Junkrat said, jostling her from her silence.

            “Oh, I assure you they're worth more than that,” she replied, and he chuckled.

            “S’ppose so… Got any good ones?” Symmetra thought about it.

            “I was thinking how much I'd like to take a real bath.” she said, and then realized it probably wasn't a good idea to put that image in his head.

            “I could blow a hole in the showers and make ya a tub,” he offered. She couldn't contain her laughter at that image, though the idea of having an actual tub installed into the complex really shouldn't have been that big of a request. Perhaps, if she offered to pay for it herself…

            Symmetra’s mind wandered back to the past month. The times between jobs had been… nice. She would occasionally dine with her new-found friends, typically one-on-one. She went with them to another Girls Night, and was surprised to find that they all had rather interesting views on artwork. She had no idea they all held a common interest. 

            Moments where she and Junkrat were actually alone were few and brief. In an effort to change that, Sym had adjusted his (replaced) headset so he could have access to her own set’s private channel. She thought about getting him a tablet or phone so they could message, but then she realized he'd probably break it within a week. At least the headsets were marginally more damage-resistant. 

            “I don't think that would be a wise decision. Showers will do for now.” she finally answered back. She clicked her visor, and zoomed in on the streets below. From her rooftop perch, she had an excellent vantage point. She was away from the suffocating masses, but could still see the revelry and positive energy around her. Though Dorado was rather run-down in her mind ( _it would be the perfect location for a Vishkar development)_ , it was not without its charm. The streets seemed to be void of any suspicious activity.

            “We should check in with Winston. Leaving the channel,” she told him, before switching from private to public.

            “Symmetra reporting. No signs of suspicious activity. The crowd seems to be thinning.” she stated. There was a bit of static.

            “Not surprising. Fireworks will be starting soon. I think people are trying to get a better view.” Winston answered back. Sym left the channel and switched back to her own. Junkrat was talking to himself.

            “Aw, I want a taco! They got churros, too? No fair!” he whined to himself. Sym covered her mouth to stifle her laugh.

            “Perhaps if you ask nicely, Hana or Jesse will get you some to enjoy on the trip home.”

            “Yeah, I s’ppose. Hard ta ignore it. Smells keep driftin’ up.”. Sym realized if he was that close to the food vendors, he was only about a half mile away from her.

            “What happened to the dinner I packed for you?” she asked. There was a moment of silence.

            “May have eaten it all ‘fore we took off… skipped breakfast an’ all… and lunch. Kinda’ hard ta resist.” he sheepishly admitted. Sym sighed.

            “You know I don't like it when you don't eat. I know you get involved in your projects, but your health takes top priority.” she gently reminded.

            “What would I do without ya?” he wistfully replied.

            “Starve to death, with a half-finished grenade in your hands,” she mused, and thankfully he knew she was joking.

            “Shit, between you, Hog, ‘n Pipsqueak, I swear! Almost gotta’ try t’forget!” he joked. She scanned her section of streets again. The sidewalks were nearly empty.

            “Howza view by you?” he asked.

            “Derelict, but acceptable, I suppose. I'm up on what appears to be an old apartment building. Doesn't appear to be anyone here. It's all boarded up. I won't lie. I do fear for the structural integrity.” she answered.

            “There a clock tower by ya?” he asked. Sym smiled to herself.

            “As a matter of fact, yes. Why do you ask?”

            “Turn ‘round, and zoom in!” he instructed. She followed what he said, and could see on top of one of the roofs a familiar lanky figure peering through binoculars waving hello. She chuckled and waved back.

            “It's me!” he merrily chirped.

            “Well, I certainly hope so, else there are two peg-legged Junkers running around this city, and I don't think it was built to withstand that!” she retorted. Their attention was interrupted by a loud pop, and blinding flash. From half a mile away, with the aid of her visor, Sym could see his face break into the biggest smile he could possibly muster.

            “OH’M’GAW! Fireworks! Sym! Fireworks!” he crowed. From that point on, his silence was only broken with the occasional ‘ooo’ or ‘ah’, and giddy chuckles. Though she never cared for the noise they made, she did love the way the fireworks lit up the sky. It was, after all, humanity’s first attempt at controlling the power of light. Primitive, but beautiful none the less.

            “Wish ya could be here with me…” he murmured over the headset. A small tremor ran down her spine.

            “…a couple more hours…” she gently reminded. The fireworks were nearing the end of their run, and a succession of many flashes and bursts temporarily distracted her. Long enough so she didn't notice the sound of the roof door opening behind her, or the sounds of footfalls. A hand clamped tightly over her mouth, and the shock made her shriek into the headset. An arm wrapped around her, pinning hers by her side.

            “SYM! Sym, what's wrong? WHATS WRONG?!” she heard him scream over the headset. She managed a couple more muffled shouts, but the gleam of a knife in front of her face silenced her. She looked up. Four total. One holding her from behind, one on each side, but all she could focus on was the skull-faced man in front of her, waving the knife at her. He brought a finger to his mouth, and shushed her.

            “Sym love, I'm comin’ for ya, alright?! Sit tight!”. The man with the knife pulled her headset off, and looked it over. He spoke in a hushed tone. She couldn't quite make out what he said, but he turned back to her.

            “Fancy tech. How'd you get up here?” the man asked, his accent thick. He was surprisingly short and spindly, but there was something about him that made her blood run cold. She remained silent. _I need to buy time. He has to have alerted the team._ The man quickly rattled off instructions in Spanish, too quickly for her to make heads or tails of it. The men at her sides grabbed her wrists tight. The man behind her removed her photon projector from her hip, as well as her pouch of flash bombs. _Please get here quickly. I don't know how long I can stall them_. They marched her towards the door, and down the stairs.

            The windows were boarded up, and the room they took her to was dimly lit. It appeared to be the living room to one of the larger apartments. Three other men waited on dingy sofas and broken chairs. There were several crates around the room. No doubt, weaponry. Los Muertos found better profit with guns over drugs. The short man kicked a chair out into the middle of the room. He switched from a knife to a small handgun.

            “Sit.” he instructed, pointing with the gun. Sym knew if she didn't comply, she'd likely get a bullet between the eyes. She slowly sat, and kept her hands raised and in plain sight. In all her dealings with Vishkar, she'd never been captured before, though she had been fully trained on what to do if that were to happen. The most unnerving part was how silent the other men were. Painted skulls stared back at her, emotionless.

            “Fancy tech, fancy suit. What brings you here? Business or pleasure?” he asked again.

            “Pleasure, by the looks a’ those thighs!” a stocky man piped from the couch. A sinister chuckle spread across the crowd, but it was immediately silenced when the short man raised his hand. He hunched down, and prodded Sym’s chin with the barrel of his gun.

            “Don’t make me ask again,”. He kept his voice steady, chilling. Sym took a steadying breath.

            “Business,” she answered. _Answer them, but slowly. Draw it out without making them angry. Show no fear. It is what they want to see._ He brought the gun down, but stared her in the eye. He didn't blink.

            “Funny. Us too. Care to explain that?”

            “A coincidence.” he nudged her knee with the gun, goading her on.

            “I was scouting possible development sites for the Vishkar Corporation,” she lied. She hoped the name would have some merit with them. Perhaps they would think it profitable to ransom her.

            “That explains the tech. You alone?” _Truth, or bluff?_ It was a risky move, regardless. She tried bluff.

            “Yes,”. She tried not to break eye contact. That would help sell the lie.

            “Then who were you talking to on that headset?” he asked, nudging her chin again. The metal was cold, and meant to intimidate, forcing her to crack. She would not let it.

            “Headquarters,”. The short man itched his chin, as if debating whether or not he believed her. He turned, and started speaking quickly to the others in Spanish. She could only pick out a bit of the conversation.

            “Don't like this,”.

            “Might be working with that guy with the mask.”

            “No. Heard he's been gone for weeks.”

            “Her gear is worth a lot. Bet she'd fetch a high price herself.”. The tense silence was interrupted by the crackle of an old intercom buzzer. The startled heads turned from the sound of the buzzer back to Symmetra. _Fuck._

            “Shame. I actually believed you,” the short man said, and backhanded her with his empty hand. She could feel the crack across her nose, and blood began to trickle. Her lip split near the corner of her mouth.

            “Eh, you might wanna see this!” a man sitting near the boarded up window called. The short man stood up, calmly walked over, and peeked down through a crack in the boards.

            “Seems your friend out there means business. Get up.” he ordered. She didn't know what he meant by that. What was Junkrat doing? She slowly got to her feet. He was behind her in an instant, his hand tightly wound through, tugging painfully on her hair and scalp. He shoved the gun into the small of her back, pushing her forward. They went down three flights of stairs, and out the front door. Sym saw Junkrat standing in the middle of the street, arms crossed. He had his RIPTire, and his grenades, but his launcher had been left behind. He saw Sym, and gave her a little wave. There was a detonator in his hand. The man stopped, holding Sym still.

            “Ev’nin, gorgeous.” Junkrat grinned, but she could see his eyes darting around, calculating. Sym didn't dare to move or respond.

            “You look familiar…” the skull-man said. _Wait till he lowers the gun. Then attack._

            “Oh, ya seen one Junker, ya seen em all,” he smirked. The mention of the word Junker seemed to jostle the skull-man’s memory.

            “Oh shit! You're that guy! The one who robbed the bank last year!” he said, with a sudden tenor of appreciation.

            “Ya heard a me, then?”

            “Yeah,”. His grip loosened on her hair just a bit.

            “Then ya know what I'm capable of…” Junkrat replied, giving the detonator another little shake. The gun was slowly removed from her back, but she knew it wasn't the right moment to make her move. He pointed back at the apartment building.

            “You crazy or somethin’?! You light this place up, this whole block’ll go! Got more than guns in there!” he warned. Junkrat merely shrugged.

            “Doesn't have’ta be a problem. Let m’partner go.” he instructed, his thumb hovering millimeters over the detonator. _Don't be reckless…_

            “Partner? Thought you had that big guy! Where's he at?”. Sym noticed movement to her side. The six others had slowly come out of the front door. She motioned with her eyes, and Junkrat took note.

            “Cut ‘im loose. She's easier on the eyes,” he answered. _He’s stalling. The others are on their way. He's bluffing, too. There's no way he was able to set any explosives ahead of time._ The man behind her gave a tug on her hair.

            “You're not wrong there, but I still call bullshit!” he snapped, and started to bring the gun back up. Sym did not hesitate. She quickly stomped on his foot with her sharp heel while jabbing her elbow into his stomach. His grip on her hair loosened just enough for her to spin, and push his other hand to the side. She quickly brought her knee to his groin, and shoved him. His grip on the gun was still fairly tight, but she managed to wrench it from his hand. It was much heavier than she expected. She aimed it, and took several steps back. She looked to her side, and there were suddenly six guns pointed at her. _I am unpredictable, and that makes them afraid of me. They're not sure whether or not I will shoot._

            “Bring me my headset, my bag, and my projector. This needn't escalate further,” she called. _If they were going to shoot me, they would have done it already. They know Junkrat will detonate if they do._ They hesitated, and the sound of their leader coughing rang out as he slowly got to his feet.

            “I recommend listenin’ t’the lady. She’s a right bitch when she don't get her way.” Junkrat suggested. _Oh, you'll pay for that one later… If we manage to pull this off._

            “Do it!” the short man barked. One of the group dipped away, and came back moments later with her items. He slowly handed her the bag. She hung it by her holster. Next came the headset, which she slid on. She felt calmer knowing it was back in place. Lastly, the projector. It wasn't charged, but the man didn't know that. She held it out, in hopes he'd feel the threat.

            “Sym, let's get outta’ here,” Junkrat called. She slowly walked backwards, never taking her eyes off the men for more than a moment; she kept one weapon aimed at the group, and one at their boss. They held still. As she backed up, her heel hit metal, and she realized that Junkrat was, in fact, standing on a mine. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and pulled her in tight.

            “Put yer projector away, an’ hang on tight,” he whispered into her ear. _Oh, he isn't going to, is he?_ Though, realistically, she didn't know how else they were going to safely get out of the situation. She slowly holstered her projector, and backed up as close to him as she could. His arms wrapped a little tighter. She still held the gun out.

            “Well, gotta’ say, it's been a real blast, but we gotta’ fly!” he crowed. _Must you?!_ He quickly hit the detonator, and the mine rocketed them upwards. The rush kept the scream firmly locked in her throat. She kept her eyes clenched tight. They arced and skid across a rough surface, and when she dared to open her eyes, she noticed they were on the same roof where she initially started. Junkrat was wrapped up tight around her, her head tucked under his chin, his legs wound around hers. She quickly unwound herself, and looked over. Half his body was scuffed and scraped from the rough landing. Sym grabbed his hand.

            “We need to get out of here! Quickly!” She said, helping him up, but she could hear the sounds of pounding footsteps coming up from the stairs below. She ran towards the door, trying to push it shut.

            “Keep it open!” he shouted, and she stepped away when she saw him pulling the RIPtire off his back. He waited until he saw them just rounding the last corner towards the roof before he pulled the chain back. Spikes and rubber roared to life, and made a line right for the stairwell. She didn't see the impact, but she heard plenty of screams. There was a loud explosion that shook the roof, and she was amazed the building didn't collapse around them. There was a momentary silence, and the two tried to catch their breath.

            “That was lucky! Hoo!” he exhaled. Sym was already down, prodding his side. He hissed a couple “ow’s”, but he seemed to be okay.

            “Careful, love! Think I broke a rib. You able ta get a teleporter up?”. Sym nodded.

            “Yes. Just need to alert anyone on the ship to activate the other base,” she replied. She reached up to activate her headset, but was interrupted by the sound of the wreckage falling away. A skull face rose from the fallen walls of the stairwell, a different handgun clutched in his hand. It was the short man. He was burnt and bloody, but he was still standing and still angry. He raised his weapon, and fired three times.

            The scream she heard was hers. She didn't realize it at the time. All she saw were three bullets lodging themselves into Junkrat’s right side. He staggered from the shock, before falling back. Blood was pouring out of him as she rushed to his side. _Nononononono!_ His eyes were open, wide with shock. His breaths, shallow gasps. She couldn't keep her composure. Not after that. The tears were instantaneous. It was one thing for her own life to be at stake. She had prepared herself for it, should the time ever come, but not somebody else’s.

            “Stupid bitch!” the skull-man spat, as he drew close. He looked right at her, raising the gun once more. Frozen in sudden fear, Sym closed her eyes, and waited for him to pull the trigger.

            But the gun never fired. She heard the sound of clinking metal, and then a loud splat on the ground below. She opened her eyes, and the man was nowhere to be found. Quickly, she scrambled to the edge that he had been standing in front of, and peeked over. The skull-man’s body lay splattered on the sidewalk. Roadhog flicked gore off his heavy metal hook.

            “HOG!” she screamed. He looked up, and immediately began to run into the building. She could hear his thunderous steps coming up the stairwell. He pushed his way through the bodies and debris, and lumbered up to her. At the site of Junkrat, he ran, falling to his knees. Junkrat’s eyes were still open, but his breathing grew more labored. Hog tried to staunch the flow of blood with a rag he found in his pocket.

            “Get yer teleporter up!” Roadhog shouted. Sym tried. Gods, how she tried. She kept pulling light, but the terror and panic was too much. The light kept snapping and breaking before she could form anything, disappearing with a brief glimmer.

            “I SAID GET THAT TELEPORTER UP!” he roared.

            “I'm trying!” she sobbed, “I.. I can't do it!” Hog stopped, and came over. He laid his heavy blood soaked hands on her shoulders, and the two black glassy pools of his mask stared at her.

            “I know yer scared, but yer th’only one that can save ‘im now. Don't look at’im. Close yer eyes. Concentrate. You can do this,”. Hog seemed so calm. If he could be that calm, then maybe she could, too. She took a breath, and closed her eyes. She tried to ignore the sounds of Junkrat’s choking breaths, and concentrated on the teleporter schematics. Her hands worked independently, pulling forth light. They took shape in her palms, and grew solid. Her eyes opened to see a shimmering blue portal before her.

            “I have opened the path,”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you all on a bit of a cliff-hanger. This is the last of my back stock of chapters. From here on out, updates will be spaced out a bit more. But fear not! I just finished the last of some crafting obligations, and now can spend my free-time just writing instead of writing and crocheting!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat wakes up from his ordeal, but he's not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, sweet babies. Mama JuJu bust her hump to get this chapter through editing just so she could get you off of that nasty cliffhanger, so I hope you like it!

            There was darkness around him, punctuated over and over by a woman’s scream. _She’s dead. She’s dead, an’ it's my fault. I couldn't get her outta’ there in time._ The screams wouldn't stop. He couldn't see. He didn't want to see. _I think… I think I'm in hell._ The darkness around him was pierced by blinding light. An angel looked over him. Her glowing wings framed her worried face. She spoke.

            “He's slipping! He’s slipping!” she called. _How can I be slippin’? I'm standin’ still._ Darkness enveloped him again. He was sinking. He didn't know how far. He didn't care. _Hell’s too good f’the likes a’me. I’m a bloody monster…_

            The darkness gave way to something cool, and soft. Its ebony curtain pulled back to blue light. Something soft was stroking his head. _Wait… Heaven? No. Monsters don't get inta’ heaven… Maybe that God bloke has a sick sense a humor… Or maybe he's just dumb as fuck…_ It had to be heaven. Something ran through his hair, lightly scoring his scalp. Fingers. It felt marvelous. He was warm, and in a soft bed, and somebody was stroking his head. The hand switched to stroking his face, and he turned, nuzzling his nose into the palm. _Didn't think heaven would smell like bleached sheets and perfume. That beep is kinda’ annoyin’, though._ His eyes fluttered open, and slowly came into focus. The beep was a monitor. He was in the med bay. Sym was by his side. She had pulled her hand away, and he gave a soft groan in protest.

            “Whaddafug?” He mumbled. She tried soothing him.

            “Shshsh, no. You need rest. Go back to sleep,” she whispered.

            “No. No, fuck that. How'd we get here?” he asked, and he tried to push himself up. A blinding pain shot up his right side, and his eyes rolled back for a moment. She rested her hand on his shoulder, and tried to keep him in place.

            “Hog came, and… took care of the last of them. I was able to get a teleporter up. Angela was able to get you into surgery just in time. We got back about an hour ago,” she explained.

            “So… I didn't die?” he asked. It was a stupid question, but in all honesty, he was genuinely surprised that he had pulled through. A sad smile crossed her face.

            “You very nearly did… twice.” she added. The room was dim, but he could see from the light creeping through the blinds that dawn was approaching. He finally noticed her face in detail. A nasty bruise covered her nose, and her lip was split. Dark half-moons hung under her eyes. She looked haggard.

            “Why’s yer face still busted up?” he asked. She turned a bit, ashamed.

            “It’s nothing. Angela was so tired after getting you stabilized, I didn't want to bother her with something so trivial. She can see to it tomorrow.” she replied. Her voice ended with a bit of a choking sound. _Oh, please don't cry! Please don't!_

            “I'm so sorry… This… This never would have happened if I had been paying attention. This is all my fault.” she croaked. Tears were welling, threatening to spill over the edge of her eyelids.

            “Yer fault? Funny, that. Don't remember ya pullin’ the trigga’,” he murmured in an attempt to comfort her. It didn't work. The tears started to spill. The last time anybody cried over him was his mother. Now he had two tear-streaked faces he'd never forget.

            “Nononono! C’mon. M’heart can't take that. No cryin’. I mean it.” he pleaded. She quickly dried her eyes with the back of her hand, and sniffed.

            “Have ya slept yet?” he asked, knowing very well she hadn't. She cleared her tight throat, choking back a sob.

            “How can I?”

            “Sym…”. She let out pent-up breath, and looked over to the small bedside table, where a paper cup and a glass of water sat.

            “Angela left me a sleep aid, but I haven't been able to bring myself to take it yet,” she admitted.

            “Please take it. Ya need sleep. I'm alright, okay?”

            “I don't want to. Not yet.”

            “Do it f’me. Please… Satya…”. The sound of her real name caused her to look over at the pill. She let out another bone-weary sigh, and reached over. She stared at it for a moment before popping it in her mouth, took a sip from the glass of water, and swallowed.

            “Good. Mind if I get a sip a that? Mouth feels like th’bloody Outback right now,” he requested. She brought the glass up, gently tipping it. He sputtered a bit, but it felt cool and refreshing, and he was thankful for it. 

            “Much better. Thanks, love.” She set the glass down, and got up out of her chair. She bent down over him, and brushed the softest kiss on his forehead. He held his breath for just a moment.

            “Well… I liked that,” he weakly grinned. Sym gave another sad smile, and turned to leave.

            “Where ya goin’?” he asked. She stopped, confused.

            “Um… my room, I suppose. I shouldn't be keeping you up,” she replied, her voice low. Junkrat let out a sigh.

            “Yer just gonna’ stay awake, worryin’ ta death…”. Her hands tightened up into fists. Yes. That was exactly what she was going to do.

            “The bed next t’me is open. Why don’cha lie down. Then yer right here, an’ I know ya ain't worryin’,” he suggested. She looked over, and thought about it. _Oh, I'll force a cough to sound extra pathetic if I have to!_ Sym agreed. She pulled the sheet back, slipped off her shoes, and crawled into the bed. Laying on her side, she watched him for a moment.

            “I ain't goin’ nowhere. Close yer eyes. Thinka’ nice things. Always helps me.” he instructed. She slowly closed her eyes.

            “Like what?” she murmured. He watched her to make sure she kept her eyes closed.

            “I dunno. A nice strong tea. When a project comes t’getha’ just right. That campfire smell. That's the best smellin’ kinda’ fire,” he mumbled. He was feeling tired again himself.

            “Mm-hmm. Agreed.” she purred, and decided to add her own good thoughts. “The warmth of sunrise on a cool morning, the relaxed feeling after a nice bath, the softness of a pillow after a long day…”. Her breaths slowed over the course of several minutes. When he saw her side slowly rise and fall in a calm rhythm, he knew she was finally asleep. The sun had fully risen, and he watched it through the slats of the blinds. He couldn't see much of the med bay. He couldn't sit up too well, and he realized they probably weren't alone.

            “Hog. Ya’ in here? Can't really look ‘round,” he loudly whispered.

            “Yeah. Ya’ need anythin’?” Hog quietly rumbled. Junkrat wasn't surprised in the slightest that he was there, or that he was awake.

            “Nah. Just… just makin’ sure this is real, an’ I didn’t cark it. An’, thanks. Y’know. F’everythin’,” he replied. Roadhog heaved a heavy sigh.

            “Jaime, do me a favor. Don't get shot no more,”.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            It was just after four o’clock when he finally woke back up. Sym was long gone. Hog, too after retrieving Angela. She had explained to him the extensive damage to his body the bullets had done. Most of the words went over his head. All he knew was three of those metal fuckers ripped through and messed up his guts. Thankfully, Angela was able get him on the mend with her magic. She tried explaining how her tools worked, hoping to bridge the knowledge gap, but Junkrat merely rubbed his chin.

            "Nope. Pretty sure it’s alien technology,” he told her. She laughed at that. The sight of him making jokes was a very good sign to the doctor. She went on to explain what he was to expect in the healing process.

            “You are quite the fighter. Not many people would have survived what you went through. Your body seems to be responding well to the treatment. I think it best to keep you under observation, though. You're still very weak, and need rest. I’d estimate you'll be out of here in as little as a week.” Angela said. She sounded absolutely thrilled, but Junkrat groaned.

            “Ahoohhh! A week?! What the hell am I gonna’ do for a week?!” he whined. Angela put her hands on her hips.

            “Yes. A week. I'd say that's pretty good, considering I brought you back from death’s door! Twice!” she jokingly chided. _Hey! I almost died! I'm allowed ta be a brat!_ Junkrat thunked his head back into the pillow in defeat. Angela promised she'd bring in a TV, so he wouldn't go too stir crazy, and if he was up to having visitors, they were more than welcome to come visit at any time. Surprisingly, the moment she said that, the door opened and Pipsqueak came running in.

            “Dudedudedude! You almost died! Like, twice! I lost my shit! Twice! Oh my god I'm so glad yo-”. Angela clamped her hand over Hana’s mouth while quickly pulling her back from the bedside. Hana eventually calmed down, and waited for her to finish talking. She mentioned that the IV would only be in for another day, provided he continued to heal at his current rate. She took her leave, and the second the door clicked close, Hana grabbed a chair, and scooted up to him.

            “Okay, you need to promise you're not going to get shot again, alright! We got your distress call, but we were all caught up trying to get through crowds, and we were trying to find the coordinates you gave us, and then we hear from Mercy on the ship about you and the teleporter, and by the time the rest of us got back to the dropship, she was working like crazy trying to get you to not die. Oh and Hog was freakin’ out at Winston, and Sym was like a ghost, all white in the face…” she rattled.

            “Alright, enough, Christ!” he hissed. Hana’s mouth snapped shut, and she blushed.

            “Sorry. Just… it was scary. Way scarier than when you almost drown. I saw you on the gurney. Really freaked me out, okay.” she apologized. Junkrat took a sharp inhale.

            “S’alright. Scared me, too,” he admitted. What he really wanted more than anything at that moment was to just be anywhere but there. Hana suddenly remembered something.

            “Oh, shoot! Got stuff for ya! Hang on! BRB!” she said, hopping out of the chair and running off. She was back a moment later with a shopping bag full of his personal belongings. She started pulling things out.

            “Hog and I went through your room and grabbed some stuff. Here! We got notebooks, and pencils, and that's my handheld you never gave back. You can just keep it. I get them for free from my sponsors. Oh! And uh… blue mouse? Huh. Wonder why Hog popped that in there.” she rattled off, setting everything on the tray in front of him. He snagged the mouse when she wasn't looking, and clutched it in his hand.

            Hana stuck around for a little while, jabbering his ear off about everything under the sun. He genuinely appreciated the company, even if he didn't have a single clue as to what she was talking about. Eventually, Angela came back in, and Roadhog was behind her, carrying a large screen. They set it up, and Junkrat was able to watch TV. 

            Hana and Hog eventually took off, leaving Junkrat to channel surfing and his own thoughts. He had a hard time falling asleep. Not moving had left him energy to burn, despite his physical weariness. His arm and peg leg had been removed, too. He’d never felt so trapped in his own body before. It slightly terrified him, and he tried not to think about it. He wasn't sure how late it was, but Angela had long since turned in, and the lights in the corridors were off. Surprisingly, the door slid open.

            “Oh. You're awake.” Sym said. She hovered outside the doorway, not sure whether to stay or go. “I didn't mean to disturb you,”.

            “What? No. C’mon in. I'm bored. Can't sleep. But, y’know, what else is new?”. She was dressed for bed, wrapped in a robe and matching slippers. The bruise and split lip from earlier were gone. She slowly padded in, and sat on the edge of the same bed from the previous night. He flicked the channel to some documentary about space exploration. 

            “Why ya up?” he asked.

            “I slept in so late today. Having a hard time falling asleep. I thought I might just walk around…” she explained. _She's worryin’ again._  

            “Wanna watch with me?”. She thought about it, and lounged back on the bed. They didn't speak. They didn't need to. They just sat in their beds, and enjoyed the program together. He wasn't sure how long they were watching, but he eventually looked over, noticed she had drifted off. He closed his eyes to rest.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            “YOU CAN’T BUILD GRENADES IN THE MEDICAL WING!” Angela screamed. She was at her wits end with the alternative forms of entertainment people were finding for the bored Junker. The grenades were Torb’s idea.

            “Bah! He knows what he's doin’!” had been Torb’s reasoning. Angela made him take everything back to the workshop. Torb left the med bay, grumbling about lost productivity, and Junkrat was actually sad to see him go. He figured work would have been a good distraction from being stuck in bed, but Angela was having none of it.

            “You need to take time off from work when you are unwell! I swear, you're just as bad as Sym when she had the flu!” Angela chided. Junkrat wanted to hear the rest of the story, but Pipsqueak and Hog came back for another visit.

            “Hey cool! Your IV is out! And she gave you your arm back!” Hana exclaimed. At least he could actually do something while stuck in bed, and not just sit in front of the TV. Hana hooked up her game console, and the two tried playing the racing game together. Hana won every match (due entirely to the fact that Junkrat just kept running his car off the road to see how much damage he could cause). 

            The day wore on, and eventually his visitors ran out of things to say or do, so they just kept him company while he sketched in a notebook. Roadhog flicked through a romance novel while Hana sat at the foot of his bed with a bottle of nail polish in hand. Sym walked in sometime around dinner.

            “Are you painting his toenails?” she asked, thoroughly puzzled. Junkrat looked up from his notebook to see his foot sticking out from underneath the sheet. He hadn't paid any attention to what Hana was doing, though it didn't bother him any. Hana simply nodded.

            “Yeah. Hey, what do you think about this shade of pink?”. Sym pondered, as if in genuine critique.

            “Hmm… I think it's too soft of a shade. A nice magenta would complement his skin tone better. Perhaps something with a bit of shimmer,” she answered, a notably sly smile on her face. Junkrat snorted.

            “Ya get Pipsqueak’s message?” he asked her. Sym nodded.

            “Good,” and he looked from side to side to make absolutely sure that Angela wasn't around. “Ya got the stuff?”. Sym held up a plain paper bag, and handed it to him. He reached in and pulled out a small bottle of hot sauce.

            “May I enquire as to why you are in need of a condiment?” she asked.

            “Oh! Right! Doctor says I can eat some real food f’dinnah! Should be here any moment!” he beamed.

            “I see. And what is on the menu?”.

            “Plain mashed potatoes….”. he drawled. He didn't seem particularly excited about the food selection itself, and Sym gave a soft chuckle.

            “Well, I'm pretty sure you should be avoiding spice for a little while, but I won't stop you. If Angela asks… Hog snuck in the contraband.” she replied, throwing in a wink. Hog looked up from his book.

            “Oh sure! I see how’it is! Throw me under th’bus!” he rumbled, ending with a laugh. Having finished the final coat, Hana stood up, and capped the nail polish.

            “Give it time to dry. I can do your fingers tomorrow if you want to match,” she said, and started packing up her stuff.

            “Think I’m going to get something to eat myself. Hog, you coming?” she asked. Hog dog-eared the page he was on, and head out with Pipsqueak.

            “I suppose I should go, now that you have your sauce. I should have something to eat, myself,” Sym informed.

            “Oh… Was kinda’ hopin’ ya’d stay, actually,” he replied, feeling slightly dejected. Sym rubbed her chin in thought.

            “Alright. I'll take my dinner to go. Just give me a few minutes,” she responded, and took off for the mess hall. Angela came in with a small plate of very bland looking mashed potatoes (Junkrat hid the bottle of hot sauce under his sheet so she wouldn't see). Shortly after the doctor left, Sym slipped back in with her own tray, and sat it on the table beside him. Her dinner looked far more appetizing. It was a relatively quiet meal, but he didn't care. He was just happy that she was even there. He tried to snitch a few bites from her plate when she wasn’t looking, but each time her fork would whip out, pinning his down.

            “I don't think your body is ready for meat just yet,” she warned. Junkrat worked up the most pitiful face he could muster, but that didn't work, either.

            “Angela says I'm mendin’ quicker than expected. She even let me outta’ the bed for a few minutes t’day!” he tried rationalizing. Sym smirked, and slid an incredibly small bite of fish towards the edge of her plate. The two wrapped dinner up, and Sym collected their dishes to return them.

            “Hey… Ya comin’ back t’night? …Kinda’ like havin’ ya nearby,” he asked. Sym paused.

            “Oh! Um… Yes. I can come back. I have some things I need to attend to first, and I'd like to get a shower in. It won't be until later. Would that be alright?” she replied. His smile was answer enough. Sym left, and he eagerly awaited her return.

            True to her word, she came back, and she was once again dressed for bed. Angela had just left, turning most of the lights off behind her. Junkrat looked up from the TV, and switched from cartoons back to the science channel. A nature documentary about birds was starting up. Sym head over to her now-usual spot, but Junkrat had other ideas. He shifted over as far as he could in his bed, and pat the empty space next to him on his left.

            “Wanna… Ya wanna join me?” he ventured. _Please!_ Sym gave it some thought, and carefully climbed in next to him. It was a rather tight fit in the bed, but she didn't seem to mind. He hesitantly draped his arm around her shoulders, and that didn't seem to bother her, either. Sym pulled the blanket over her lap, getting herself nice and settled in, and rest her head on his shoulder. _Well… I like this, too._ They watched the documentary together, occasionally making their own observations here and there.

            “Sym?”

            “Yes?”

            “This count as’a first date?”

            “Perhaps, though I typically don’t sleep with a man on the first date,” she mused. She nodded off shortly after, and he placed a soft kiss on the top of her head before turning the TV off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, for reals now, it's going to be a bit longer between updates. I was able to get through the last of this chapter a lot quicker than I expected.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat gets out of the med bay, but finds things are amiss. Sym still blames herself for the events that nearly killed him, and she isn't handling it well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, sweet babies. This chapter just sort of... rocketed right out of my head much quicker than expected. It's shorter, but I feel like it's just enough. This pace of mine will die down at some point, but until then, enjoy!

            “Just one final check, and then you're good to go,” Angela cheerfully piped. _Fuckin’ finally!_ Junkrat was actually getting out a day earlier than expected, but it still felt like he'd been there for an eternity. Angela told him she'd never seen anyone bounce back so quickly.

            “Radiation, love.” he joked. After taking his blood pressure, she started pulling back the blankets.

            “And now to examine the wounds…” she said, while yanking his hospital gown up.

            “Bwuh-hey!” He snapped, scrambling to cover himself. Before, he'd had a little more warning, and would pull the blanket up over his lap. He hadn't expected a final inspection. Angela didn't even react in the slightest.

            “You never struck me as the bashful type…” she coolly stated as she examined the nearly faded scars.

            “I'm not. Just weird when yer lookin’, ‘cause… I dunno’. It’s you!” he blushed in embarrassment. She quickly scribbled on her tablet for a moment. _Christ, at least cover me up first!_

            “I'm a doctor, Junkrat. It's nothing I haven't seen before.” she replied, and pulled the gown back down. _Is she judging? I think she’s judging…_

            “Everything seems to be in order,” _Well that's good!_ “And here are your clothes! You are free to go!” Angela beamed, while handing him a pile of things that weren't his. Something was amiss. He looked at the pile, puzzled. _Where are m’shorts?_

            “These ain't mine,” he said, holding up the edge of black denim pants, and a black leather boot.

            “Oh, did no one tell you? We were… unable to salvage your shorts. They were so blood soaked and ripped up, and they were more patch than cloth! So, I threw them out. Hana took the liberty of getting you some new clothes,” she said, rushing through her explanation. She braced herself for his tirade, but all he did was give the saddest whimper while looking all glassy-eyed.

            “Ya threw ‘em out? Ya didn't even let me say g’bye!” he whined. Angela chuckled, shaking her head.

            “My apologies. Though, I will not lie. I think the team will greatly appreciate you wearing something new,” she apologized while scrunching her nose, and she filled in some more information on her tablet. She excused herself, leaving Junkrat to wallow at the loss of his shorts.

            He really wanted to hate his new clothes, but he just couldn't. Hana had done a terrific job picking stuff out for him, and surprisingly, everything fit perfectly. She even had one leg of the denim shortened to accommodate the bulky knee joint of his peg leg. The shirt was white, and had a black skull and crossbones, much like his own tattoo, but there was a rat skull in place of a human one. _Damn, I look fancy as fuck! Gotta’ shirt on, and everythin’!_ Junkrat’s concept of ‘fancy’ was considerably more casual than most peoples’, and he'd be the first to admit that it was nice wearing a boot that wasn't singed and partially melted.

            The first thing he did was run to the mess hall. Lunch was probably wrapping up, and he hoped he could catch everybody to say hi. It felt so good to be out of a bed, and standing upright. Sadly, by the time he got there, the room was nearly cleared out. Zarya gave him a big slap on the back that nearly toppled him, but beyond that he was left by his lonesome. _Fine! I see how’it is! At least I can go bug Sym!_ He scarfed down a quick lunch, and ran to the workshop. Unfortunately, Sym was out. Torb mentioned she was stuck in a conference call with Vishkar, and had been gone for quite some time. _Thought she didn't really work for them no more._ He sat down at his end of the design table in hopes of finding a project to work on when he discovered that something else was amiss.

            “I suppose ye’ve never seen it in action, but sometimes Sym goes on a cleanin’ rampage. She may have found yer desk a perfect target,” Torb explained. _Did… Did she fuckin build me drawers?_ He went through the new organizational system she had implemented, and while she didn't throw anything out, she somehow managed to get everything completely soot-free. Junkrat rubbed his face in confusion. _Gonna’ have ta talk ta her ‘bout that._ His thoughts came to a halt when he went to find his stylus. Another blue mouse was waiting for him in the top drawer. It was sitting on top of a note. 

**You may need to see about fixing this drawer. There seems to be a little squeak in it. - Sym**

_Okay, well… I think I'll survive the cleanin’._ He turned to his design screen, and stared at it blankly. Absolutely nothing was coming together in his head. He flicked through old designs, in hopes of drumming up some inspiration. That proved a fruitless effort. He took a look at his back stock to see if anything needed replenishing, but everything appeared to be perfectly topped off. 

            “Havin’ a hard time comin’ back to it?” Torb asked. Junkrat scratched his head.

            “Yeah. S’pose so,” he grumbled. Torb handed him a sheet of paper.

            “Well, Mei has put in a work order if yer wantin’ ter try yer hand at some fiddly stuff. Apparently her little ice gun got all smashed up. I can give ya de schematics if yer interested,” Torb offered. It was something to do, and he wouldn't mind the opportunity to try something new. In all honesty, he'd always been a little curious as to how the device even worked. He had tried on several occasions to ask her, but Mei always seemed too afraid of him, or would avoid him altogether. He snatched the work order and gave it a once-over, agreeing to the job, and Torb gave him the schematics. He also brought out a case with the broken bits to see if anything was worth salvaging. Junkrat set to work.

            By day’s end, he nearly had it completed. The piece was complex, with lots of little bits, but it felt good to hone in on something that challenging. His brain was feeling sharp again. The days in front of the television made him feel dull and useless, but the project seemed to wipe all of that away.

            He let his mind wander as he worked, thinking over the last few days. The only things that made it tolerable were Hog and Pipsqueak’s visits during the day, and Sym stopping by at night. She'd share dinner with him, and at night, would come back in and crawl up into bed with him to sleep. He hadn't had a single nightmare with her by his side. Despite the entrapped feeling of being stuck in the bed, at night, there was nowhere else he'd rather be. She was soft and warm, and he'd often wake to find her fingers laced with his. The previous night, he was woken by her quietly crying. He didn't know what to do, so he just held her a little tighter, letting her get it all out. Somewhere in the early hours, she'd crawl away before Angela would come in. He hated waking up to see the space next to him empty, but at least her scent would linger on his pillow for a little bit.

            “I’m packin’ it up fer de day. Ya stickin’ around, twiggy?” Junkrat looked up from the nearly-finished piece, the stylus once again clenched between his teeth.

            “Nah. S’pose I can finish this t’morrow. ‘Sides, some a this wirin’ is too delicate f’my eyes right now. Still feelin’ lil run down,” he answered, pushing up from the desk.

            “Takes time, lad. You'll get back to it,” Torb said. _Yeah, I know._ There was still some time to kill before dinner would be ready, and he decided to wander the corridors as he often had before. He came around the corner to the glassed-in conference room, and he saw Sym once again. She was dressed as prim as he'd ever seen her before, and she sat at the end of the long conference table. A rather impressive model of a skyscraper had been raised in the center, and the man at the other end of the table was speaking to her very quickly. It was the same man as before, but at least he wasn't yelling. There was still something off about him, despite his forced smile. _What a fuckin’ wanker. Stupid haircut. Stupid face. Everythin’ I hate ‘bout Suits! Bet he sits down when he takes a piss!_

            He waited in the corridor out of site, watching the meeting take place. _Fuck, are they ever gonna’ stop?! She needs t’eat!_ It didn't help that he didn't understand a word they were saying. Sym had gotten up multiple times, pointing at parts of the model, and bringing up detailed schematics and blueprints. Her face was calm, but he could see an animated sparkle in her eye as she looked at it all. There was pride, there. Confidence. As much as he hated the Suit she was talking to, and all that he represented, he loved seeing her like that. Eventually, the meeting wrapped up. The man and the model vanished, and Sym (again, not paying attention) rolled up the blueprints and left the room in noticeably high spirits. Junkrat quietly snuck up behind her, and hoisted her up in a crushing hug.

            “There’s m’favorite girl!” he beamed. She, of course, shrieked, and flung her rolls of blueprints up in the air. He carefully placed her back down on her feet, and she spun around.

            “Why must you always sneak up…” she started, but her words came to a halt when she looked him over.

            “You're wearing a shirt!” she stammered.

            “Always this observant?” he teased. She shook her head at a sudden realization.

            “Did you sneak out?” she hissed, eyeing to make sure no one else was around.

            “What? No! Got out a day early! Doctor says I'm her number one patient!” he joked. Sym gave the biggest smile he'd ever seen, and he suddenly felt like a pile of brainless jelly. _Now THAT’S my favorite face!_ She quickly scooped up her blueprints.

            “Let me run these back to my room, and then we can surprise everyone in the mess hall. I'm sure Hog and Hana will be quite pleased to see you up and about,” she said. He followed her, waiting outside in the hall while she put them away, and they walked together towards the scent of food, and the sound of laughter. He snuck in rather quietly, and very carefully pulled up alongside Pipsqueak, who was completely engrossed in conversation with Jesse. If Hog noticed him, he didn't say anything. Sym remained behind him, taking in the site that was sure to be rather entertaining.

            “Yeah, I told Angela to pitch his shorts. Blegh. Don't even want to think about how long he'd worn them between washings. Pretty sure he likes to go commando, too,” Hana jabbered, while giving a noticeable shudder.

            “Well, I do like ta feel th’breeze down undah’…” Junkrat finally cut in. Hana’s shriek came out as more of a squeak, but the table made up for it with a burst of laughter. She whipped around and pinched his nose.

            “You are such a goddamn brat, I swear!” she snapped, but couldn't contain her own laughter while hugging him. When the energy died down, Jesse excused himself to grab himself a plate, and Sym followed behind him. As soon as she was out of earshot, Hana’s voice dropped low, and she pulled Junkrat in closer.

            “Okay, so something’s up with her. Like, I know shit was serious, but I think it really messed with her head…” Hana started.

            “She seemed alright earlier,” he replied, but suddenly remembered the clean desk back in the work room, and the tears from the night before.

            “Yeah, she’s really good at masking, but I'm pretty sure I caught her crying in the showers a couple days ago. I asked if everything was okay, but she said she just stubbed her toe,” she explained. Junkrat’s face fell.

            “Fuck,” he hissed, “I’ll see about talkin’ to’er later,”. The conversation ended when Sym came back in with a loaded tray. She handed a plate to Junkrat, and sat herself down next to him. She had a smile on her face, but there was pain hiding in her eyes. _Fuck._

_.           .           .           .           ._

Trying to catch her alone was considerably difficult. He wasn't sure if it was deliberate or not, but she seemed to linger in rooms where other people sat. He decided to call it quits when she quietly slipped off to her room unannounced. He figured it'd be awkward to try knocking on her door when the other women were around, so he ended up just going back to his own room with the hopes of trying again the next day.

            Sleep for himself was damn near impossible. He'd grown rather used to having her in his arms, and his own bed felt downright lonely. He liked the way she’d tuck up alongside him. It made him feel like he was actually worth a damn. He tried hugging one of his pillows up against him, but that was a poor substitute at best. It was somewhere around two in the morning when he finally gave up on sleep, and trudged out of his bed into the common room. _Guess that’s back ta normal._ The common room, however, wasn't exactly empty.

            “Couldn't sleep?” he ventured. Sym was staring at the TV screen with a blank expression on her face. She shook her head no. The narrator on screen droned on about the court life of Elizabethan England. He plopped down on the other end of the couch, and heaved a heavy sigh.

            “What's eatin’ ya?” he asked. She didn't look away from the screen.

            “Nothing,” she lied.

            “Bullshit. Stop lyin’,”. Her eyes flicked to him for a moment, and then back to the screen. She let out a heavy breath.

            “What do you do when somebody you care about almost dies because of your own stupidity?” she finally stated. He tilted his head back against the sofa, and stared at the ceiling.

            “I told ya it weren't yer fault,” he exhaled.

            “Yes it was. I was careless. I didn't pay attention to my surroundings, and you nearly lost your life in your attempt to get me out of there,”. _Christ, she’s hell-bent on blamin’ herself._

            “Y’know, this may come as a bit of a shock, but we kinda’ have dangerous jobs. Who’da thought it'd mean occasionally gettin’ a gut fulla’ lead?” he reminded. Her mouth drew up into a thin line.

            “You should have waited for more of the team to arrive…” she started, but he cut her off.

            “No. Absolutely not. Ya know why I didn’t wait? I heard ya scream, an’ I watched through binoculars as four creeps grabbed ya. Y’know what usually happens when four creeps grab a woman? Well, I’ll spare ya the details, but it sure as fuck ain't pretty. Couldn’t live with m’self if that happened… Seen it b’fore. Ruins people, Satya. Makes ‘em hollow…” he trailed off, lost in one of the uglier memories from Junkertown. He shook his head from the screams playing in his mind, and rubbed his face.

            “Jamison…” she whispered. He looked over, and her expression was impossible to read.

            “Fuck. Just… stop blamin’ y’self, alright? Ya seem ta do that a lot, an’ it ain't good for ya. So what? They got the jump on ya? Happens t’the best‘a us. An’ as I recall, you tossed yer ass off a cliff ta save me, so as far as I can tell, we’re even, alright?” he rambled. His heart ached, and it was downright terrifying at that moment. _I'm done. Can't take no more._  She was at a loss for words, and simply nodded. _Fuck._

            He felt her arms wrap around his torso, and she buried her face in his chest. He could feel a sudden dampness wet his new shirt, and her shoulders heaved with quiet sobs. He stroked the back of her head, and said nothing for a long while.

            “Get it all out now. T’morrow’s gonna’ be a fresh start. Yer gonna’ put this behind ya, alright?” he murmured. She shook her head in agreement, but it took a while before the tears stopped.

            “Ya wanna sleep in my room t’night?” he asked. She shook her head no, and he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

            “No. Hana says your room is filthy. We’ll sleep in mine,”. He softly chuckled, and scooped her up.

            “…I can walk…” she quietly said in sullen protest.

            “I know, but right now ya don’t need ta,” he replied, and proceeded to carry her back to her room.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have settled back down, but Junkrat can't seem to catch a break!

            Junkrat woke up in Sym’s bed, and was surprised to find she was still there. What’s more, she was still asleep. He also discovered that she was a blanket hog, as only the tiniest strip of fabric covered him. He didn't care. His engine always ran hot, and he often found sheets and blankets superfluous. She stirred a bit, and rolled to her side, facing him. He could only see from her nose up; the rest of her still buried underneath the blankets. Her face was serene, and it made him feel relieved. 

            He hadn't intended to wake her, but he couldn't stop himself from reaching over, and threading his fingers through her hair. The motion caused her eyes to flutter open, and liquid gold looked back at him. She slowly pulled the edge of the blanket from her face to reveal a soft smile. His heart raced at the sight, and even more so when she leaned over, giving him a peck on the nose. Surprisingly, his face ignited into a blush. It was, quite possibly, the most content he ever felt.

            “Breakfast?” she asked, and he nodded. She looked over at the clock on the night stand, and her eyes popped open in horror.

            “Oh! I can't believe it's that late!” she stammered. Puzzled, Junkrat looked over.

            “It’s only a quarter past nine…” he stated, confused as to why she was panicking. She quickly hopped out of bed.

            “And we ain't even workin’ t’day…” he added. She rushed to her dresser and started pulling out clothes to change into.

            “Yes, but I am trying to reset my sleep schedule, and didn't intend to sleep in so late,” she rushed. She started tugging her nightgown up, but remembered he was still there.

            “Would you mind…”

            “Not at’all. Wouldn't mind sneakin’ a peek,” he cut in, raising a tempting eyebrow. Her face grew incredibly red. _Alright, I get it. Still too soon._ He heaved an exaggerated sigh, and pulled the blanket up over his head. In all honesty, he wasn't surprised, nor upset. The previous night had been a heavy blow to the heart, and he knew it wouldn't be a good time to start bringing sex into the mix. _But maybe soon, I hope…_

Eventually, she gave him the okay, and he pulled the blanket down. She was dressed rather neatly, and quickly running a brush through her hair. In an instant, she had plaited it into a loose braid. He watched her step over to her water closet, gave her face a quick wash, and she started rifling through a drawer. She pulled out a bottle of perfume and gave herself a quick spritz on her wrists and neck. She bent down at the foot of the bed, and tossed him his rumpled shirt.

            “Put your arm and leg on. I'll let you know if the hall is clear,” she said, carefully sliding her door open, and peeking around the corner.

            “…you ashamed a’me?” he asked. Her head whipped around, and she almost seemed hurt by his question.

            “What? Of course not. It’s just… I'm not sure if what we’re doing is accepted here, professionally speaking. It was exceedingly frowned upon at Vishkar,” she explained. A sudden wave of relief washed over him. That was a much more understandable reason.

            “Fair ‘nough. I’ll keep it secret… Makes it more fun that way,” he grinned. The red came back to her cheeks, and she poked her head back out into the hall.

            “It's clear! Quickly!” she hissed, shoving him out the door. He stumbled towards the main corridor, but not before bumping into Lena towards the end. She gave him a confused look.

            “Oh! ‘ello, love! Whatcha’ doin’ round here? Ya’ lost?” she joked. _Shit! Say something! Anything!_

            “Uh… Guess so? Haven't had m’tea yet. Wasn't payin’ attention ta where I was goin’.” he blundered, rubbing his eyes sleepily. She seemed to buy the feeble excuse, and hooked her arm in his.

            “Well, c’mon then. I'll getcha’ some! Ya like Earl Grey?” she asked, and tugged him to the mess hall before he could weigh in his own opinion (It wasn’t his favorite. That title belonged to Chinese Gunpowder.) The room was only half full by the time he got there. Apparently, it was a lazy Saturday morning for everyone. He sat down with Hog, who was already enjoying his tea while flicking through the same romance novel he had been reading in the med bay. He finished the last page, and closed it.

            “Did they live happily ever after?” Junkrat teasingly asked. Hog took a sip.

            “As a matter a fact, they did. Lady Cassandra ran off with Holton the Highwayman. Ended up gettin’ hitched,” he rumbled. He slid the book towards Junkrat.

            “Ya wanna’ borrow it?” he asked. Junkrat rolled his eyes.

            “Not after ya went an’ spoiled the endin’. ‘Sides, ain't a fan a that mushy romance stuff,” he sassed.

            “Could’a fooled me…”. Hog’s comment made him pause for a moment, before hiding his face behind his mug.

            “Don’t know what yer talkin’ ‘bout, mate…” he said, and ended the conversation by sipping his tea. It didn't stop Hog from giving him a toothy grin before sliding his mask back down.

.           .           .           .           .

 

            The weekend passed by in a blur. He asked her if she wanted him to come by at night, but she politely declined, stating she didn't want to push their luck of being spotted. Internally, he groaned, and it led to a couple sleepless nights on his part. He'd sit in his bed, tossing, turning, and harrumphing. _Stupid. Ridiculous! I'm a grown-ass man huggin’ a pillow pretendin’ it's a girl, when I already got one right down the hall! Fuckin’ rules. Fuck this professionalism bullshit!_

            He wasn’t above pleasuring himself to try and relax, but it didn't exactly help. If anything, it only made things worse, because he kept thinking how much better it'd feel if it was her hand around him. Once that image was in his head, there was no getting it out, and it evolved into so many other visions (that he was starting to worry would never happen).  _Great. Now I can't sleep, an’ I’m all riled. Fuckin’ Christ._

            Monday rolled around, and he trudged into the workshop. Two sleepless nights with zero sexual release put him in a downright sour mood. He sat down at his station, and realized he'd never finished repairing Mei’s blaster. Sym was engrossed in making adjustments to her photon projector. She was dressed in her usual jacket, and a tight pencil skirt. Her hair hung loose around her. The image of her hair fanned across the pillow as she lay underneath him popped into his head, and it was with some effort that he pushed it away. _It's gonna be a loooooong fuckin’ day!_

            He set to work, making the adjustments and tweaks according to the schematic. He found it considerably more difficult to focus on it than on Friday. Sym complained to herself that it felt stuffy in the workroom, and took her jacket off. She undid the top two buttons of the short-sleeved blue blouse, and fanned herself. The top hugged her curves nicely. _Christ! Put yer jacket back on, woman!_

He finally finished the project, and connected the blaster to its canister in order to test it. Sym finally took notice of what he had been working on, and, intrigued, stepped over to look. She bent down, looking over his hunched shoulder. His eyes darted to the side, and he immediately regretted looking. He could see right down her blouse, and the sight of full breasts cupped in black lace beneath was nearly too much. She was completely oblivious to her precarious angle. _Just… just fucking end my misery!_

            “Oh! Are you working on Mei’s endothermic blaster?” she enquired.

            “Yep.” His voice was strained as he tried not to look down her shirt again. He held the nozzle towards the ceiling for her to inspect, not daring to make eye contact. She leaned on the edge of the table, and inadvertently bumped his stylus. It rolled off the edge, clattered to the floor, and continued to roll away. She quickly turned, apologizing, and bent over to pick it up. The enticing sight of perfection before him was the straw that broke the camel’s back. His finger twitched on the trigger.

            There was a loud whistle and pop, and suddenly the workroom was blanketed in several inches of snow. Sym was standing rod-straight, her face in utter shock. Flurries dusted her head and shoulders, and her feet were completely sunk into the snow. Torb stood motionless, a screwdriver clenched in his hand. The room was dead silent.

            “Well… Guess I got it ta work!” Junkrat awkwardly piped, breaking the silence. Very slowly, their heads turned to look at him. He thought for sure they were going to throttle him on the spot. He was relieved to hear the sound of Torb letting out a single “heh”, which slowly turned into a “heheheh”, and from there he erupted into a hearty belly laugh. He pound his fist on the table as he howled at the sight. Sym did not seem quite as amused as she shivered in the snow.

            “J-J-Junkrat…” she chattered, her tone as icy as the snow covering her feet.

            “Please don't kill me!” he pleaded. A wicked smile came over her. She scooped up a heavy ball of the white fluff with her bare hands, and proceeded to shove it down the front of his shirt. If there were any lingering sexual thoughts in his mind, they were completely dashed to pieces.

            “FUCKTHATSCOLD!” He shrieked, hopping out of his chair, shaking the snow loose. Torb was having an absolute fit at the sight before him. The freezing pair stared at each other with matching devious grins. They seemed to have the same idea as they simultaneously started balling up fistfuls of snow, and began pelting them at each other. A few snowballs missed, smacking Torb in the face. This did not stop his laughter. Eventually the cold caught up with them, and they stood still, teeth chattering, hands and feet numb.

            “Oh, God Almighty! Dat was too much! Go warm up, you two! I'll go get air dryers from de hangar, and try ter melt it all!” Torb wheezed, and left the workroom. Junkrat started laughing, and head out behind him.

            “W-w-where are you g-g-going?” Sym chattered.

            “Sh-sh-showersss. G-g-gonna b-b-boil m’self alive!” he chattered back. She followed behind him. Apparently, Torb had already spread the story of what happened, and Angela handed them a pair of bathrobes to change into, so they wouldn't have to waste time grabbing dry clothes. That was fine with Junkrat, because he didn't have anything else to wear. He just hoped he could get his clothes dried out before dinner.

            They took the last two stalls in the washroom, peeled off their sopping wet clothes, and sat on their benches. The hot water kicked on, immediately filling the room with steam, and Junkrat could feel the pins and needles from the cold melting away. Apparently, so could she. They each let out a sigh in tandem at the warmth coursing through them.

            “That is much better…” she hummed. Junkrat laughed.

            “Yeah. Y’now, Mei and Zarya can keep their bloody snow! That stuff is shit!” he cackled. Sym laughed as well.

            “Agreed!”. The ice seemed to finally melt from his brain, and it occurred to him that they were, in fact, alone and naked in the same room together.

            “Oi Sym! Know what I'm thinkin’ ‘bout right now?” he asked, adding a tempting lilt to his voice.

            “How to make a snow bomb?” she joked.

            “Not exactly, but that's a pretty good idea! I’ll have ta remember that one f’later!” he replied. He paused a moment.

            “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

            “Thinkin’ bout how no one else is in here… and ya ain’t got a stitch on ya…” he said, adding even more of a lilt. He heard her take a quick breath in.

            “The same could be said for you, too…” she reminded. Her voice was lacking a dismissive tone, and he decided he'd take the gamble.

            “Can I sneak a peek?” he asked. The pause was too long. He was certain he had overstepped his bounds.

            “I suppose…” she lilted back. His blood rocketed through him. _Oh fuck yes!_ He carefully climbed up onto the bench, balancing on his one foot. His hand gripped the tile of the wall separating, and he slowly peeked over.

            “Oo! I see the toppa’ yer head… Pretty eyes… Cute nose…” he said, listing everything off as more of her came into view. She let out a girlish giggle, and tried to stifle it. _Too late. Heard that! Gonna remember it f’ever!_

            “Loveliest smile in th’world… elegant neck… bare shoulders, ready f’kisses…” he grinned. In the steam, he could see a slight blush form across the bridge of her nose.

            “Ooo… I think I know what comes next!” but before he could get that far, the door swung open, and cowboy boots came clunking in. The shock caused Junkrat to lose his balance, and he toppled off the bench onto the unforgiving floor with a loud thunk.

            “Hhhrrrmmmmfffuuucccckkkk!” he whimpered. _This just ain't fair‼!_

            “Whoa, partner! You alright? Sounds like ya took a slip!” Jesse drawled, stepping into the stall next to his.

            “Yup,” he moaned in response, slowly pulling himself up back onto the bench.

            “Ain't that a bitch? These floors, I tell ya!”. At least the cowboy was oblivious.

            “Junkrat, are you sure you're alright? It sounded like a pretty hard fall!” Sym finally asked, announcing her presence.

            “I'm fine!” he growled.

            “Hey now! Don't take it out on the lady! Don't let his bark get to ya’ sweetheart. Think he just injured his pride.” Jesse tried to explain to Sym. _Ain't mad at HER, ya bloody dipstick‼!_ Junkrat heard Sym turn her shower off, and his face dropped when he realized she wasn't going to wait for Jesse to leave. He heard her quickly towel off.

            “I'll see you both at dinner.” she coolly called, leaving the washroom. Junkrat stewed in annoyance as Jesse loudly whistled a tune to himself.

            “Say Rat. Had an idea this mornin’. Talked it over with Hog. He seems game for it. At least, I think he does. Never can tell with that mask of his. Anyways, what say you to a Guys night?”. Junkrat grit his teeth, but tried to sound not angry.

            “Guys night?” he asked.

            “Yeah. Why should the ladies have all the fun?”.

            “Whatcha have in mind?”. The thought of actually getting out did sound appealing.

            “Nothin’ crazy. Just head out to a bar. Grab some beers. I know a place y’might like. Low key sort of place, so no worries of bein’ spotted. What’da’ya say? You in?” Jesse offered.

            “Yeah, sure. I'm in.”. _Then I can poison yer fuckin’ drink, ya fuckin’ fuck!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. He wont stay mad at Jesse forever, and eventually the workshop will dry back out. Stay tuned for... Guys Night ;)


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat joins the guys for a night out. Sym and Hana spend a quiet night in. What could possibly go wrong?

            At the request of everyone in the group, Junkrat showered again on Friday. Though the bar they were planning to go to was considered a dive, Jesse said that even that place shouldn’t suffer a constant cloud of soot. When he protested, Hog grabbed him by the scruff and gave him preemptive talking-to.

            “Ya wanna drink? Ya need ta b’have!” he warned. Junkrat acquiesced to the shower, and left behind his pouch of cherry bombs (just for good measure). Hog could be a real stick in the mud when it came to bars, but it was mostly due to Junkrat’s track record for destruction.

            “You an angry drunk?” Jesse asked, as they head towards the hangar. Hog cut in, answering for him.

            “Nope. Just obnoxious…”.

            “But fun!” Junkrat added. Hog merely shook his head no. They made their way towards the motorcycle, and he hopped in the sidecar. He looked around as Hog pulled himself onto the seat.

            “How’re we all getting there?” he finally asked. Reinhardt swung keys around his pinkie.

            “Angela’s letting me borrow her minivan. You two vill ride separate, and follow us! Zat way, if you cause too much trouble, Hog can take you home!” the giant boomed, squishing himself into the driver’s seat. Junkrat grit his teeth. _Christ! I set one bar on fire, an’ I never hear th’end of it! … Okay, so it was two bars, but still!_ Torb and Jesse piled into the vehicle as well (Winston refused to go, claiming it was exceedingly unprofessional).

            The ride took considerably longer than they would have liked, as Reinhardt drove under the speed limit, and left his turn signal on for almost the entire drive. Eventually, they pulled up to a dingy looking bar, and parked. The red and orange neon sign flickered; Brimstone. _Seems like a nice place!_

They stepped in to find the bar to be everything they expected it to be. It was loud, grimy, and full of questionable characters. The Junkers felt right at home. The bar owner didn't seem to mind when Jesse lit a cigar, and started puffing away. Torb went to get the first round, as the other four piled into an empty booth. He made a couple trips, coming back with frosted mugs. The beer was bitter and watery, but Junkrat drank it without complaint. Conversation soon turned to story-swapping, and the Junkers regaled them with tales of heists gone mostly right, and occasionally wrong.

            After the beers were finished, Torb and Reinhardt noticed the jukebox in the corner, and made their way over to see what to play. Jesse stepped up, offering to get the next round, and left the Junkers to themselves. For a moment, it felt like old times.

            “Ever get the workshop dried out?” Hog asked.

            “Yeah. Took a while. Mosta’ the tech is hard light, so, didn't get ruined or nothin’. Paper blueprints were all closed off, so no worries there. Just took f’ever t’melt that shit. Tried usin’ a flame thrower, but Sym said no, so I couldn't…” he explained. There was still one last sip in his mug, and he decided to drain the bitter dregs. He tipped the mug back.

            “Y’two fuck yet?” Hog bluntly asked. Junkrat coughed, choking on the beer. He slammed the mug down.

            “Oi! What th’fuck, mate?!” he hissed. Hog gave a huffy chuckle.

            “They can't hear us. ‘Sides, that lot don’t have a clue. Well, the little guy might,” he said. He knew that was fairly likely to be true. His eyes darted from side to side.

            “Not yet…” he answered under his breath. He drummed his fingers across the sticky table, trying to break the intensely awkward silence.

            “Christ, fucking say somethin’. I know ya heard me!” Junkrat snapped. Hog simply shrugged.

            “Right. Well… surprised is all,” Hog responded, aloof. _What the hell does that mean?!_

            “Stop fuckin’ with me,” he growled. Hog turned his head slightly.

            “I ain't. Just curious… Sounds like ya know what yer doin’, though. So I won't hassle ya no more… Not gonna stop placin’ bets, though. Gotta have some fun, right?” he finally explained. Junkrat let out a strained laugh.

            “Mate, I DON’T know what th’fuck I’m doin’! ‘Fraid I'm gonna fuck it all up,” he admitted. The words tumbled out, making him feel stupid. _Aw, Christ, why’d I say all that?!_

            “Well, y’seem ta be doin’ somethin’ right, so… I dunno’, keep at it. She's good for ’ya. Try keepin’ her ‘round,” Hog suggested. _Oh, you're a lotta’ help!_ Torb and Reinhardt came back to the table, ending the conversation.

            “Can't believe it! No Hasselhoff! An outrage, I tell you!” the giant bellowed, and Torb rolled his eyes. Jesse came back to the table with a bottle of whiskey and a handful of shot glasses.

            “Beer’s dandy, but I'm needin somethin’ stronger. Gentleman…” he said, filling the five glasses, and passed them around. They knocked them back in unison. He immediately refilled the glasses. _Oh, this is gonna get ridiculous._

            He certainly wasn't wrong. The stories ended up evolving into “That’s nothin’! One time, I…” yarns that grew louder and more exaggerated with each round. Reinhardt tried teaching them a few drinking songs, but the group couldn't carry a tune to save themselves, and the annoyed faces of the other bar patrons finally ended their singing careers. They decided conversation was the best way to go. Eventually, they drank three shots in a row, in honor of the bullets Junkrat took in Dorado. The third shot pushed him past the point of no return. He was more than buzzed. He was downright drunk.

            Junkrat stumbled to the jukebox, and just kept pushing buttons for the sake of pushing them. He liked the clicking sound they made, and he just stood there giggling to himself, delighted by the antique machine. The bartender yelled that he had to actually put money in if he wanted music to play, so he dug into his pockets for cash, and ended up queuing up the same punk song fifteen times in a row. _I love this song! E’rybdy needs t’hear it!_ He hobbled back to the booth to enjoy his musical selection. Jesse nudged his shoulder.

            “Seems you have a fan. She’s been eyein’ ya’ all night…” the cowboy grinned. Blurry-eyed, Junkrat looked over his shoulder. At the far corner of the bar, there was a fairly pretty blonde in a black dress giving him a once-over. She seemed to like what she saw, and tilted her head, inviting him over. Junkrat slowly blinked. Suddenly there were two of the same woman. _Yer not Sym… th’fuck I wanna waste time with th’both a yas?_ He simply gave her a shrug, and went back to the glass of water that Hog was making him drink.

            “Not m’type,” he mumbled. _M’type’s at home. Th’fuck am I doin’ here?!_

            “You have a type?” Jesse asked, thoroughly puzzled at the concept of the Junker being picky.

            “Yeah! Love th’kinda sheila that can kick m’ass. ‘Sides! Already gotta’ girl!” He cheerfully piped. All four heads whipped his way.

            “How?! You never leave ze compound!” Reinhardt pointed out. Torb’s good eye narrowed, suspiciously.

            “Yeah, RAT! Who’s the lucky girl?!” Hog chimed in, glaring down at his drunken friend. _Oh fuck! That's right!_ He reached up, tenderly patting the side of Hog’s mask.

            “Oh, Hoggie-babe, you know yer th’only one f’me! When ya gonna’ make an honest girl outta’ me?” he joked, and the table erupted in laughter.

            “Stop bein’ an ass!” Hog snapped, which only lead to more laughs. It seemed to temporarily deflect their suspicious looks. Junkrat looked back to eye the blonde. In his inebriated haze, he tried to think of the last time he enjoyed proper company. _To long!_ Though the thought of knockin’ boots with just anyone seemed hollow and pointless. She gave him a pouty face before turning her gaze to Jesse.

            “Well, now, Rat! Think ya went an’ broke her heart! S’pose it’d only be neighborly to go and try to console her…” Jesse said, sliding out of the booth, and walked over. The room was starting to spin.

            “Bah! Vere I twenty years younger… I tell you, Rat Man! Enjoy this time. Find yerself somebody sweet to cozy up vith!” Reinhardt instructed, having already forgotten what Junkrat said only moments ago. _Way ahead a ya, mate!_ The conversation went back to shop talk, and Junkrat was beginning to feel bored. 

            “Brimstone, huh? Wuz brimstn without fire?!” he slurred, flicking a match from the book Jesse left behind. He eyed the flame, hoping it would stabilize his spinning brain. Hog snorted, blowing the flame out, and snagged the matches.

            “Christ, can’t take ya nowhere! C’mon, let’s get outta’ here b’fore ya’ try t’take yer pants off, like last time.” Hog growled, hoisting Junkrat to his feet. He wasn't really paying too much attention, but suddenly he found himself being hauled towards the motorcycle, and he was stuffed into the sidecar.

            “Iluvthis… this fuckin piece a’shit bike, Hog…” he tried explaining as he ran his fingers along the edges of the side car. A bit of paint chipped off, and he stared at the metal underneath. He kissed the marred paint. _There, love. All better!_ Hog took off, heading back to the watchpoint. He had to get up at each red light, and scramble to wrangle Junkrat, who’d try bolting to the nearest restaurant any chance he could.

            “Mate! M’starvin!” He shouted each time, before Hog caught him and stuffed him back into the sidecar. The mammoth Junker finally promised he'd find him something to eat when they got back, and it was enough to at least stop him from trying to make a break for it at each light. With much effort, the pair finally made it home in one piece.

.           .           .           .           .

 

            “This game is impossible!” Hana snapped, staring at the screen.

            “I think you are making fantastic progress. You've nearly caught us up with Junkrat’s save point,” Sym said, looking up from her book. The two had taken turns on the puzzle game, and while Sym flew through her levels, Hana seemed to have hit a wall.

            “You're just saying that to be nice!” Hana pouted, and Sym quietly chuckled.

            “We all have our strengths and weaknesses. That last game you tried to make me play made me dizzy, remember?” Sym reminded. Hana hit the pause button, and sat the controller down. She took a few gulps from her can of soda before turning to look at Sym. With the men out, the pair had decided to enjoy some quiet time in the common room, relaxed in their pajamas. 

            “Think I'm good on games tonight,” she said, before she turned the console off.

            “Hmmmm… What else did you have in mind?” Sym asked, bookmarking the page she was on with her finger, and leaned over to snitch an apple slice from the plate on the coffee table.

            “I dunno’. Kinda’ bored… Can I play with your hair?” she asked, looking at Sym’s locks. Sym rubbed her chin.

            “I suppose,” she agreed. A few minutes later, Hana was standing behind the sofa, running a brush through her silky lengths, and began braiding them into different styles. Sym quietly continued to read. Hana could be surprisingly calm when she wanted to be, and the pair found that they could simply enjoy being in each other’s presence without necessarily carrying an involved conversation.

            “Whatcha’ readin’?” Hana finally asked as she wove her hair into a temporary braided crown.

            “The Highwayman’s Lover. Hog let me borrow it. He thought I might like it. I let him borrow Pride and Prejudice in exchange. It’s the closest I have in comparison,” Sym replied, flicking to the next page.

            “Ha! That's actually my book! He borrowed that from me. So how far are you?” Hana asked.

            “About halfway through. I find the writer’s style to be quite juvenile, though it is nice to read something of this nature from time to time. I think of it as a palette cleanser,” she answered. Hana snorted, not the least bit offended.

            “Yeah, sometimes it's fun to read something mindless. You get to the part in the carriage house?” Hana asked. It was hard taking her seriously when she was sporting pink shorts covered in kittens and rainbows, but if she noticed Sym’s blush, she didn't mention it.

            “Yes. That part was rather… excessively detailed,” Sym said as if it were just any other scene from any other book. 

            “Wait till you get to the part at the inn!” Hana grinned. Sym bookmarked her page, closing the cover for the night. She reached over, grabbing her glass of water.

            “I find the highborn-lady-wayward-vagabond pairing to be rather over-saturated and stale, though I suppose plot is not at the forefront of the writer’s mind when it comes to these sorts of books, ” she critiqued.

            “I dunno’. Kinda’ makes me think of you and Rat Boy,” Hana cheerfully chirped. Sym’s back stiffened in response, and she was suddenly at a loss for words.

            “Don’t freak out, but… I know about you two…” she admitted. Sym sat still and silent for a moment, taking in her words.

            “I often forget you two are good friends. I assume he told you…” Sym finally managed. She didn't know how to feel. She supposed slightly betrayed. It was supposed to be a secret, but then, Hana was quite the confidant. Could she fault him for confiding in a friend, as she herself had done before?

            “No, actually. I called that shit the day after you pulled his sorry carcass out of the ocean. Kinda’ put two and two together just by noticing things. I think it's sweet, though. Sometimes he watches you when you're not looking, and he's got a big stupid smile on his face…” Hana explained. There was a slight feeling of relief from knowing he hadn't actually gone back on his word, and then a warmth at the thought of his adoration. She wouldn't lie to herself. She loved being the object of his affection. It made her feel uniquely wanted. Forays with men in her past had been nothing more than a few bland dates, some disappointing sex, and that was about it. No one ever made her feel, well, so absolutely treasured before. She let out a small sigh.

            “Goddammit, stop being all cute and blushy!” Hana sarcastically quipped. Sym hadn't even realized she was, and drank some water as a distraction.

            “You two do it yet?” she piped, causing Sym to immediately choke and spit water down her chin. She wiped it away, before whipping around. Hana was sporting a bored ‘no big deal’ kind of face.

            “I… We… That’s none of your business! But… No. Not yet… I trust you will not say anything about this to anyone? I worry for how it may appear… professionally speaking,” she blundered. Hana just shrugged.

            “Girl, I got you… Sorry if I made it weird. I didn't want to put you on the spot, but it felt weird knowing and not telling you,” Hana admitted. Sym nodded.

            “I appreciate your honesty, and I suppose it's better to get it out into the open… I assume it's safe to say that Hog knows, too. I am fairly convinced he and Junkrat have mastered telepathic communication,” Sym replied. _This certainly is not how I expected the night to evolve._ Hana pulled her hair out of the elaborate braided bun she had worked it in, letting Sym’s dark tresses fall back around her. She leaned over, giving Sym a quick loose hug.

            “Don't go stressin’. Life’s short. Have fun while you can, right? I think I'm gonna’ hit the hay, though… Oh! I have the sequel to that book, by the way. You want to borrow it when you're done with that one?” she asked, as she made her way towards the exit of the common room.

            “…well… I suppose it would be wise to read the whole story. Perhaps the author’s style will improve with the next installment,” Sym smirked. Hana waved goodbye, and left, leaving Sym alone with her thoughts. _Things certainly have changed since I joined._ She smiled to herself. _I think for the better._ She adjusted the collar of her robe, opened the book back up, and started skimming through the pages, trying to find the scene at the inn. _I doubt I'll be missing anything important from the plot._

            Her reading was interrupted a half hour later by several indistinguishable shouts, a couple clangs, and the sound of somebody running, (or rather, trying to run). She paused, trying to ascertain what was happening. She heard thunderous steps that could only come from one three people: Winston, Reinhardt, or Roadhog. There was another clang, a growling grunt, and then a distinctive manic cackle. _Oh for the love of…_ She went back to reading, hoping Roadhog would put an end to whatever it was that Junkrat was up to. A few minutes later, she heard his thumping steps come closer to the common room. For a brief moment, she actually considered hiding. Hog walked past the open entrance, and glanced in. Junkrat was slung over his massive shoulder, giggling incessantly. The black mask turned, noticing her on the couch. He grabbed Junkrat by the shirt, and unceremoniously dropped him onto the sofa next to her, and trudged off.

            “He's yer problem now. I'm goin’ t’bed. Fuckin’ exhausted…” he wheezed, over his shoulder. He muttered some sort of warning about pants to her, but she couldn’t quite make it out. Completely taken aback, she looked over to see Junkrat grinning stupidly. A noticeably red glow spread across his cheeks and nose. She could smell the whiskey on him.

            “Wuzza’ pr’ty sheila like you doin’ here?” he slurred incoherently. _Oh, he is going to have a vicious hangover tomorrow!_

            “Junkrat, it’s me. You're home now,” she calmly stated. He tried (very hard) to process her words.

            “I am? Gezz that ‘splains whya look like Sym!” he piped, and ended with a hiccup that turned into a high-pitched wheezing laugh. Sym let out a strained sigh.

            “Why don't we go to your room? You can rest more comfortably,” she suggested. A different kind of grin suddenly crossed his face.

            “Yeah? Soundz like fun…” he slurred, wiggling his eyebrows.

            “No. You are going to sleep.” she ordered, ignoring his suddenly ravenous eyes sweeping over her. Her reply set in, and the wicked grin fell.

            “Fuckin’… Fuckin’ fine…” he mumbled, and she helped him up off the sofa. He had a considerably difficult time balancing, and Sym struggled to keep him upright as they slowly made their way to his room. Keeping him quiet was a real challenge. He kept trying to sing in incoherent German.

            “Renhert taught me. Great song, right? Don’ know whath’fuck it means, though,” he cackled. She tried clamping her hand over his mouth to stifle him, but he ran his tongue over her palm, causing her to shriek a little in surprise.

            “Hehe, gotcha’!” he giggled. Annoyed, she rubbed her palm on his shirtsleeve. _I will not sully my robe!_ They finally made it to his door.

            “Where is your key card?” she asked.

            “Guess!” he teased, and she rubbed her temple.

            “Is it in your pocket?” she asked.

            “I dunno… Why doncha try’n find it?” he grinned. Drunk as he was, he noticed her growing more annoyed by the minute, and thumbed to his back pocket. She carefully reached in, fishing around for the thin metal card.

            “Heheheh… Yer touchin’ m’bum… cheeky shiela!” he snickered. She pulled the card out, and swiped it through the lock, stifling the awkwardness coming over her. The door slid open. She clicked the lights on, took one look at the junk pile he called a room, and immediately closed the door. _Absolutely not!_ She hooked her arm around him to steady him, and turned away.

            “Where’re w’goin’?” he blundered.

            “Your room is horrendous. I'm taking you to mine. Be silent!” she snapped. _He is drunk. I am sneaking a drunk man into my room… What has my life become?!_ He seemed to grasp the concept of silence, because he didn't say a word the rest of the way to her place. She shoved him in, and quickly shut the door behind her. He had tumbled to the floor in a giggling heap.

            “Quiet!” she hissed, and his laughter dropped a couple decibels. He slowly clambered into her bed, and pat the side next to him in attempt to look tantalizing.

            “Take your prosthetics off, please. I do not wish to risk injury,” she explained. He fumbled a bit, and she ended up helping him undo the pieces, sliding them off his limbs. He tugged his shirt off, tossing it as far over the bed as he could. She was still bent over him, trying to tug the blanket and sheets over him. He reached over, running his thumb along the side of her jaw, and brushed her bottom lip. It sent a shiver down her spine.

            “Now what, pretty lady?” he asked, his eyes amber eyes suddenly smoldering. She pulled back, and switched on her lamp.

            “You're going to close your eyes and go to sleep,” she instructed, trying not to lock eyes with him again. She flicked off the bright overhead lights, leaving behind the soft glow of the lamp. She went over to her side of the bed, and started to climb in.

            “Canna’ getta’ g’night kiss?” he pleaded. _Oh… Oh, this could spell disaster if I am not careful._ Despite her better judgement, she found the offer difficult to resist. His eyes were half-closed, and he was sprawled out on her bed. The carriage house scene from the book flashed in her head. _I chose a poor night to read that!_ She leaned over, starting with a very chaste peck on the cheek, and then another one on the lips. She lingered just a bit, and made the mistake of looking into his eyes again. The third kiss very nearly undid her.

            It was searing, passionate, and surprisingly not sloppy. She felt his tongue almost immediately, and didn't stop him. Despite his inability to even stand upright, in a completely drunken state his tongue was astoundingly skilled. One could even say nimble, and in the back of her mind, she was rather impressed. She could taste the whiskey on his tongue, and it was smoky. The flavor suited him well. His hand pushed the back of her head slightly, sealing them together even further. She felt a familiar tightness coil through her. _I REALLY regret reading that stupid book! I need to put a stop to this!_ His hand slid away, and he slowly pulled back, ending the kiss. She found herself utterly breathless.

            “I’ll put m’tongue t’better use nex’time, love. When th’room ain't spinnin’.” he promised, and the sound of hunger in his voice just made the coil tighter. His reminder that he was intoxicated helped, though. She shook her head, and slowly climbed off the bed. She needed to give herself a moment to regain her composure, and then she remembered that he was probably going to be exceedingly hungover in the morning. She headed towards her water closet, and began collecting items to help him through his inevitable misery. She pulled down a bottle of aspirin, filled a glass of water, and grabbed the small waste basket under her sink. _I hope he doesn't wretch, but if so, I'd at least like to be ready_. She heard a loud thump as something hit the floor. _That would be his boot._ The sound of fabric rustled as he tried to get comfortable under the blankets, and then very quickly heavy breaths and light snores soon followed. _Good! He is asleep!_ She sat the water on the night stand, as well as the aspirin. The basket was placed on the floor right next to the bed. She walked back over to her side, undid her robe, and climbed in.

            She took a few calming breaths, and looked over. She had to stifle her laugh at the sight of his mouth hanging open. He was down for the count. Something peculiar caught her eye at the foot of the bed. In the dim lamplight, she could see a wadded ball of black denim.

            “ _Well, I do love ta feel a bit of a breeze down undah!”_ his words echoed in her head as her face once again ignited. _Oh no! Nononono! He isn’t, is he?_ A very stressed look crossed her face, and she stared at the ceiling. Her fingers laced over her stomach. Curiosity gnawed at her. _I will never be able to sleep at this rate!_ She let out a very strained breath. _Oh, fuck it!_ She had to know! She carefully lifted the blanket up, and peeked with one eye. Curiosity sated, she let the blanket fall back down. _Well… That certainly is something to look forward to!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so here's a rundown of who's in the know of Sym and Rat. Winston: Completely oblivious. He's way too busy with other stuff to pay attention to which members are trying to knock boots. Reinhardt: After the bar, decides he believes Junkrat when he "professed his love" to Hog. He is supportive of whatever makes the Junkers happy. Torb: Until that slip of the tongue, he just assumed Junkrat had a one-sided massive crush on Sym ("Bah! She is too prim for de likes of him!"). Jesse: Still completely oblivious, though he wonders if maybe Rat digs Hana as more than just friends. Angela: Believes the two have a very special bond, and would make a cute couple, but has no idea how much things have progressed (Sym always slipped out of the hospital bed before she'd arrive in the mornings). Lena: Fairly oblivious. She thinks they're always walking together because they work in the same department. Maybe they're close friends, like her and Winston! Mei: No clue. She's still too afraid of the Junkers to watch what they're doing. Zarya: No clue. Her attentions are focused elsewhere.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cautionary tale in which Junkrat gets what he deserves for being such a brat when Sym was hungover.

            _She was underneath him, writhing in the throes of pleasure. She moaned and called his name. Her cry of ecstasy was music to his ears. And then some stupid twat had to go bang on the goddamn door!_

            Junkrat’s eyes snapped open to somebody pounding on the door. They had interrupted the greatest dream he ever had, and he was in no fucking mood! He fell out of bed, his vision still doubled and blurry, and hopped over towards the entrance. He was still technically drunk, but was just beginning to feel the edges of a hangover creeping in. He was completely unaware of his surroundings. That detail was pointless at the moment. He needed to tell the asshole at the door to stuff it! He pulled himself up into the doorway, and opened it.

            “The fffuck d’ya want?!” he growled, his vision only just starting to come into focus. It was Pipsqueak, and she had the weirdest look on her face. Her eyes were bulged, her mouth hung open, and maybe she was running a fever or something, because her face turned beet-red. Her eyes darted down for a second, and then back up. Her mouth pulled into a nervous line, and she held something out to him, not daring to break eye contact.

            “Sym left this in the common room last night… Just bringing it back. Uh… Make sure she gets it!” Hana finally stammered. Her voice was considerably more high-pitched and reedy than usual. _The fuck is her problem? Why’s she giving me a book? She should just go to Sym’s room!_

            “…alright…” he replied as he took the book, and tucked it under his arm. He closed the door in her face, and, eyes only partially opened, hobbled back to bed, where he proceeded to plop back down, and slept for two more hours.

            The second time he woke up was like a reset to his brain. His eyes slowly peeled open, and he could tell by the obnoxious brightness in the room that he was good and hungover. He looked around. Something was amiss. _This ain't my room…_ It was, of course Sym’s room, and he had absolutely no memory of how he got there.

            _The fuck happened last night?!_ He remembered going out. Flashes of the bar replayed in his head. They drank… a lot! The bartender yelled at him. He couldn't remember why. There was a blonde giving him a once-over, but he vaguely remembered turning that offer down. Beyond that, it was a blur. Hog had been there, of course, so perhaps he didn't get into too much trouble. But still… How did he wind up in Sym’s room? He looked around, and she wasn't there. _Where the fuck is she?_ His stomach gave a sickening flop. _Oh Christ!_ He went tearing for the water closet, and made it just in time. As he violently wretched into the toilet, he was suddenly very thankful she hadn't been there. Hog told him one time that he sounded like a dying animal when he vomited, and at that moment, he sure felt like one.

            He didn't bother to get off the floor, because he was fairly certain he'd be right back there again in a few minutes. He flushed, banishing the mess from his site. That was when he noticed that his ass, pressed firmly against the tile, was quite cold. He looked down. _Where th’fuck are m’trousers?!_ He tried piecing everything together. He was in Sym’s room, naked, and really, there was only one logical explanation in his mind. _Oh my god! We fucked last night!_ He ran his hand through his hair, stressed and panicking. That wasn't how it was supposed to go! He wasn't supposed to be falling-down-drunk, probably slobbering all over her. He wanted the memory of their first time to be something wholly amazing, not visually upsetting. Hell, he’d gladly take any memory at that point! The panic caused his stomach to flop again, and he wretched once more.

            _How, though? If I was so drunk that I don't remember, how'd I even manage ta get it up in the first place?_ Junkrat had previously discovered on several occasions that ‘whiskey dick’ was a very real thing. And he had more than his share of whiskey last night. That was something he distinctly remembered, mostly due to the fact that he could still taste it… and smell it. He was sweating booze. _Okay… Maybe we didn't fuck… Or… Christ I don't remember anythin’!_ What he needed was to find Sym, and to find her, he needed a plan.

            Step one: he needed to get out of the room! He was pretty sure he wasn't going to vomit again, so he peeled himself off the tile floor, and crawled back to the bed. He found his pants, and put them on. He also found his shirt, and put that on, too. Next came his arm and peg leg, and lastly his boot. The whole process took him nearly a half hour. He noticed on the nightstand a bottle of aspirin, a glass of water, and nearby a rubbish bin. _Okay, so she knew I was drunk, and was ready for my hangover… Awful sweet a’ her. Christ, I hope I didn't fuck this all up!_ He downed the water and aspirin, and slowly helped himself to another glass for good measure. _I need coffee…_ As he trudged back by the bed, he noticed two things. One: there was a book in the bed ( _well, that's weird)._ Two: there was a pair of sunglasses on her desk with a note attached. The note simply said **In case it's too bright**. It was a pair of dark aviators, and they helped tremendously.

            He needed to get out of her room. The longer he remained, the more questions he had. He carefully slid the door open, and peeked to see if the coast was clear. Thankfully, it was. He snuck down the hall, and into the main corridor without anyone seeing. He immediately headed to the mess hall to get coffee, and hopefully find someone who may remember what happened. The scent wafting out told him he had long missed breakfast, and that it was lunchtime. _Oh my god, is everyone in here t’day?_ It wasn't so much that he cared about what they thought of his hangover, but he didn't want to try to talk to Sym in front of the entire team. A quick scan showed she wasn't even there, and he breathed a small sigh of relief. _She can't have gone far, though_.

            He staggered through the line of hot cases, and Lena snickered under her breath as he grabbed the whole pot of coffee off the burner, and sat it on his tray. He also grabbed the greasiest burger in the case, and a bottle of water.

            “You lot have a good time last night?” she giggled. _Holy shit, your voice is shrill!_ He simply grunted in response, and stumbled towards a seat. Hog came over, and sat down. He said nothing, and just watched Junkrat in his misery. Hog rarely ever suffered from hangovers himself, mostly due to the fact that he knew how to pace himself, and also because there probably wasn't enough alcohol in the world to get him properly shit-faced.

            “Mate, what happened last night?” he groaned.

            “I took ya home, and left ya on the couch. I dunno what the fuck ya did after that,” he rumbled back. Junkrat proceeded to chug the scalding coffee. Hog was no help.

            “Y’seen Sym?” he finally asked. Hog shook his head no.

            “Think she want out with Angela. Somethin’ ‘bout shoppin’,” Hog answered. He proceeded to pull out a book, and thumbed through the pages, trying to find where he left off, ending the conversation. _Alright, somebody had ta see somethin’!_ He tried to think of who else might have been up, and he had to think of how to delicately word things so as not to let something slip. He suddenly remembered doing almost exactly that at the bar, and he rubbed his temple. _Christ I'm stupid!_

            After finishing his food, most of the pot of coffee, and the bottle of water, he felt considerably better, though still befuddled. He saw Jesse at a table by himself. He was also sporting a pair of sunglasses, and the biggest shit-eating grin imaginable. Junkrat head over to join him.

            “Some night, eh?” the cowboy drawled.

            “I guess. Don't remember much, t’be honest,” he replied.

            “You remember that blonde?” Jesse asked.

            “Not really,”.

            “Well, I sure will,” he said, and Junkrat suddenly understood why he was grinning so stupidly. _Well, at least somebody had a good time last night!_

            “Don't s’pose ya came back last night at some point, did ya?” he ventured. Jesse let out a raspy chuckle.

            “Shit, Rat! I just got in an hour ago!” _Well you're no fuckin’ help either!_ Jesse went back to drinking coffee while sporting the same ridiculous smile. Though he was still annoyed at the cowboy for the shower incident, he still gave him a friendly clap on the back before getting up and leaving his table. _Maybe ol’ Reinhardt will know somethin’._ He found the giant over at the gym, lifting weights.

            “I over indulged! Now I need to sveat it out!” he explained, curling a massive weight.

            “That makes two’a us! So… wouldn’t happen ta remember what happened last night, would ya?” he asked. Reinhardt suddenly stopped, and gave Junkrat an odd smile.

            “I think it's nice zat you found somebody special. Don't let anyvone shame you two for it!” he beamed. Junkrat’s mouth dropped open. _Oh fuck! Did I tell them? I didn't think I did, but how else does he know?!_

            “You two have been together through thick and thin. I did not realize Roadhog vas your type, but love is love! Enjoy it!” the giant said, and it took a moment for Junkrat to process everything. _Oh for the love of…_ He knew he'd have to correct the man at some point, but he really didn't want to get into that discussion at that moment. Realizing the giant would also be of no help, he decided he’d try one last person, and he was dreading it.

            Torb was, of course, in the workshop. He looked up from his project, and scowled at Junkrat. He started to remember the conversation in detail, and the suspicious look the little man had given him. Torb was too smart to not figure it out. Junkrat said nothing, and just took a seat at his end of the table.

            “Y’dont’ happen ta remember what happened last night, do ya’?” he finally asked, breaking the silence. The sounds of tinkering stopped.

            “You started lightin’ matches, and Roadhog took yer sorry ass home. Ye were already in yer bed by de time we got back,” he answered. _Well, somebody’s bed._ He was slightly relieved at the response, but also not. Torb went back to his tinkering.

            “So… You and Sym, huh?” he finally muttered. Junkrat cringed.

            “…yep…” he confirmed. He didn't see the point in lying. Torb grumbled.

            “I love dat girl t’pieces. She's smart. Knows what she's doin’. Has a good heart, even though she works for dat Vishkar place. You break her heart, I break yer face.” he cryptically warned. Junkrat scowled.

            “Wasn’t plannin’ on it… When did ya figure it out?”

            “Saw ya always peekin’ at’er. Thought ya just had some silly schoolboy crush. A crow chasin’ after some’tin shiny. I swear, de look on yer face when she bent over… worth cleanin’ piles a snow for dat laugh. But, started suspectin’ when she didn’t kill ya on de spot. Course, den you go flappin’ yer gums at de bar…” Torb explained. Junkrat cringed again.

            “Listen, mate. Would really ‘ppreciate if ya didn't say nothin’ to no one. She don't want this gettin’ out,” Junkrat requested. Torb stopped fiddling with his tools and parts.

            “I won't. She'd probably combust on de spot if I did. I mean it, though. You make her cry, I'll make YOU cry!” he warned again.

            “Christ! I get it!” he hissed, pushing up from the table. He supposed his lack of answers was the penance he'd pay for when he screwed around during her own hangover all those weeks ago. Frustrated, he headed to the hangar to get out of everyone’s sight, and wallow in misery until Sym got home. He sat with his back propped up against the sidecar of the Mayhem Mobile, oblivious to anything going on around him.

            “Hey!” Pipsqueak greeted, giving his boot a nudge with her foot. He looked up, and for a moment, he felt like he was missing another piece to the puzzle. She was sporting an odd sort of smile, which only grew weirder the longer he blankly stared at her.

            “Hey?” he ventured back. She plopped down on the ground next to him.

            “You have fun last night?” she innocently asked.

            “I think so. Don't remember much of it. Don't know what happened at th’end at all,” he explained. It was no use asking her if she remembered anything. She would have already told him if she knew what was up. Thankfully, she was rather quiet, allowing him to have his mini-existential crisis in peace.

            “So did you give Sym her book back?” she asked.

            “No, I left it on th’be…”. Dawning realization was a real bitch. His eyes slowly widened. His face went white in horror, and his mouth hung open mid-sentence.

            “Oh good! Your remembered!” she said, and ended in a cackling belly laugh. She clamped her hand at the stitch in her side at the utter look of terror on his face.

            “I… Whu…ff…hah…hnngg!” he jabbered, clutching the sides of his head as his brain went into full meltdown. Hana’s laugh eventually subsided.

            “How about you start with an apology? Two, actually. One for yelling at me, and two for making me see your junk,” she suggested, giving a small shudder at the end. He curled up on the floor, and let out a pitiful whine. He never was the bashful sort. Hog had caught him with his pants down more times than he could count, and there were several occasions where streaking proved to be a rather useful tactic for distraction. That being said, the memory of Hana standing there in total shock damn near killed him. Had he been only a witness to the event, he'd probably have found it hilarious. She came to the door, clearly expecting to find Sym, but who should open up? A massively shit-faced, completely nude Junker. Adding insult to injury, he realized that he was probably rock hard, too. She had interrupted his sleep from that thoroughly perfect dream. A few more pitiful whines and “oh my god”s later, he finally took in a deep breath.

            “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” he apologized twice. Hana said nothing, and he assumed it was her form of acceptance. The silence damn near killed him.

            “Fuckin’ say somethin’!” he wailed.

            “Looks like Sym has her work cut out for her…” she flatly stated. His face went from ghost white to cherry red in an instant, and he seriously considered throwing himself into the pool to drown himself and end his misery. He didn't, though. He still needed answers.

            “I don't remember what happened! I was at the bar, and then I fuckin’ woke up naked in’er bed! An’ she ain't here, an’ I don’t know what I did! Fuck! Why’m I tellin’ this t’ya?!” he wailed some more. Hana started laughing. _Stop laughin’, ya lil’ shit!_

            “Okay, well, if it's any consolation, I don't think anything happened. My room is right next to hers, and I didn't hear anything. And trust me, I would have. Our soundproofing here is shit, and you don't strike me as the quiet type. But anyways, I dunno. I saw her just before she left with Angela, and she was acting pretty normal, so I guess don't sweat it. Bet you just took your pants off and passed out,” she said. Her words actually helped. _Right. Right! That's all that happened… I think. Somethin’ else happened though. I can feel it. This shit is gonna kill me!_ He heaved the heaviest sigh of relief he could muster. A few moments later, the sound of a vehicle pulled into the hangar. Two doors opened, there was a rustle of bags, and then two doors closing. Two sets of heels came clicking, and there was a bit of chatter.

            “That shop had a wonderful selection. Thank you for taking me,” Sym’s voice echoed.

            “Anytime! I thought you might like it. It's difficult to find quality like that in this area. Also, thank you for treating for lunch,” Angela replied. As they turned the corner, they caught site of Junkrat and Hana.

            “Ah! Somebody seems to have a bit of a hangover!” Angela piped. _Stuff it, blondie! It's been a hell of a day!_ Sym stopped walking.

            “Apologies, Angela. I just remembered a question I had pertaining to a project. I’ll catch up with you.” Sym called, and Angela went ahead, leaving the hangar. Sym’s eyes darted to Hana, and the two seemed to share a telepathic conversation.

            “Aw shit! I forgot! I'm supposed to help Zarya hook up the new cardio equipment in the gym! Later gators!” she said, bounding out of the hangar. Sym stood, arms crossed. She was sporting the smuggest grin ever.

            “My! How the tables have turned!” she joked. Junkrat cringed.

            “Yeah… Sorry ‘bout bein’ a drunk mess. I didn’t do anythin’… unsavory, did I?”. Sym’s face turned to one of reassurance.

            “No, nothing like that. I would not have let you, and I don't believe you would have let yourself. Though… You did take your pants off…”. He snorted. _Yeah, kinda’ figured that out for m’self._

            “…you also gave me a demonstration of your… skills…” she added. Puzzled, he thought about it. Skills? What sort of skills? She wouldn't oblige him in an answer, but there was something about the look in her eye, and the twitch in her smile that made his heart race a little. She turned, and began to walk out.

            “Let me know when your hangover is gone. You made me a promise last night, and I intend to hold you to your word,” she said, and swayed out of sight. _Promise? Now, what would I have promised?… Oh!… OOOOOOOOH!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, sweet babies! Baton down the hatches, because MaMa JuJu is calling for the storm of the century!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rainy season has started, and they find themselves stuck indoors during a storm. What ever will they do to pass the time?

            When she had awoken that morning, Junkrat was still completely out. There was no waking him, try as she might. She could smell his breath, and it was a lot less pleasant than it had been several hours ago, when his tongue had been in her mouth. She thought back to her own hangover, and how miserable she had been. Perhaps he wouldn't necessarily want an audience to witness him in that state. She dressed, and left the room. At breakfast, she noticed Angela. The doctor was dressed considerably casual, and appeared to be readying to leave.

            “Spending the day out?” Symmetra ventured. Angela gave a nod.

            “Yes. I was planning to do a little shopping. Retail therapy, if you will. There are a few boutiques I was hoping to stop by… Would you care to join me? Everyone else is either busy or still sleeping, and I wouldn't mind a little company,” she offered. In the past, she would have quickly, but politely, turned down her offer. The thought of navigating busy streets around crowds of people often triggered a feeling of suffocation, but she had been working through that in recent months. She accepted Angela’s offer, and went back to her room to grab her purse. She almost forgot he was still passed out in her bed, though it appeared he had shifted. He was lying face down, the blanket barely covering his backside. She could just barely make out the edges of tattooed letters, and then she remembered the first secret he ever told her. _Bless this mess, indeed!_ She zipped off towards the hangar, waving hello to Hana in passing. The girl gave her the oddest look, but simply kept heading to wherever she was going.

            The day out had been surprisingly pleasant. Though the town was packed with throngs of people, with Angela next to her, she hardly noticed. The woman kept up a light conversation that distracted Sym from the people around her. They made their way into a store that sold athletic gear, and Sym treated herself to some new running shoes, a sports bra, and athletic leggings. They popped in at a sweet shop, and Angela bought herself some truffles. The clerk offered them samples, and after trying the pistachio and dark chocolate, she also bought a small assortment. She wasn't particularly a sweets person, but she thought it'd be nice to hand some out to Hana, Hog, and Torb. Angela mentioned feeling peckish, and they decided to grab a light lunch at a nearby cafe.

            “I had one more shop in mind, if that's alright with you,” Angela asked. Feeling refreshed and recharged after the cucumber sandwiches and tea, Sym agreed. The last shop Angela selected was, in fact, a lingerie store. The choice didn't bother her. She'd intended to simply purchase a few basics, but a sapphire blue peignoir set caught her eye. It was elegant, tasteful, and the fabric draped on the mannequin in folds that reminded her of Grecian goddesses. She wanted it, but felt it was something far too extravagant just for sleeping. “ _I’ll put my tongue to better use next time,”_ his voice echoed. She reached down to the shelves below to find her size. She didn't dare look at the price tag.

            The pair returned to the watchpoint after that, and that's when she saw the hot mess that was a hungover Junkrat. She wanted to chide him, and poke a little fun, as he had done to her, but the look of worry on his face, and his panic as to whether he mistreated her tugged at her a bit. He had been exceedingly obnoxious, of course, but not threatening. Her coy reminder of his promise didn't appear to set in until after she left.

            Dinner that night was something else. He still looked haggard, but oh, how he could flirt with a mere look or smile. She distracted herself by handing out the candies she had bought. She gave a truffle to Torb, who blushed considerably, and she thought she heard him mutter something under his breath along the lines of “too good for the likes of”, but she simply brushed it off. Torb was gruff, but had a good heart, and he deserved a treat, too! She gave Hana a chocolate covered strawberry, and for Hog, a pink truffle decorated to look like a pig. He stared at the candy, which was completely dwarfed in his massive palm.

            “Do you not enjoy raspberry?” she asked, and she worried she had made a poor selection. His mask obstructed his face, but she could see a red flush overtake his scalp underneath his platinum hair.

            “….can't eat it… Too cute…” he sheepishly mumbled, and it was so low, she could barely make out the words. Roadhog, the massive Junker who could crush a man with his bare hands, could not bring himself to eat a tiny pig-shaped chocolate. Hana’s hand whipped out, and she swapped treats with him. That seemed to help. He ate the strawberry in one bite, leaves and all, and gave her a thumbs up.

            Junkrat managed to behave himself through the rest of dinner, but she was fairly certain he never took his eyes off her. He never said a word to her during the meal, but his eyes would often catch hers. Each time a shiver would course through, and a very particular warmth would snake through her lower half. Was it possible for a man to actually radiate his body heat? She worried that she'd actually break a sweat if she sat near him any longer, and excused herself shortly after. She hadn't prepared herself for that feeling of intensity.

            There was no sleep to be had for poor Symmetra. Her brain simply would not let her, as two parts of her subconscious fought with each other. She'd just begin to drift off, and her dreams would immediately grow intense. In one, she was riding on top of him. In another, she was bent over, and he was tugging her hair. Then, she was shoved up against a wall, where he had her wrists pinned in his hands, and her legs wrapped around him. Every time she neared release, a different part of her brain would wake her up. The coil in the pit of her stomach had overtaken her whole body at that point. It left her aching, wanting, and wide awake. She knew there was one way to temporarily take care of her situation, but she just couldn't bring herself to it.  _Perhaps my subconscious is purposefully teasing me…Why did he have to be so hungover today?_

            The following morning, she decided she'd test her new running shoes out on the track, and hopefully distract her from that blasted coil! The moment she laced her shoes, she noticed the slight patter of raindrops on her bedroom window. By the time she opened the blinds, it was a full downpour. _So much for that! It appears the rainy season has begun._ She whiled away the day finishing up the last of The Highwayman’s Lover, which probably wasn't the smartest move. After finishing, she headed down for lunch, and brought the book back to give to Hana. Hog had also finished the book she leant him.

            “Mr. Darcy izza knob, and doesn't deserve Lizzy…” was Hog’s rather brief review. Hana took her book back, but she had already promised Hog the second installment. _It is probably best that I do not read further at this time._ Junkrat was not at lunch. She realized she hadn't seen him at all since dinner the night before. Hog wasn’t sure where he was, either. Sym decided to use the quiet afternoon to deep clean her room. As much as she didn't mind sharing a bed with him (she found him to be incredibly warm, which she always enjoyed for sleeping), the scent of his sweat mixed with alcohol lingered in the room. It was subtle, but enough to make her open the windows for fresh air. The rain outside would not let up, but she enjoyed its aroma far better.

            After dinner (which he missed as well), she overheard Mei and Lena talking about the new cardio equipment in the gym. _Hmm… I never got my run in this morning. Perhaps I will try the new treadmill. It is better than nothing._ She once again put on her new athletic clothes and shoes, grabbed a towel, and head towards the gym.

            She didn't pay attention to who else was in there. It sounded like a few of the men and Zarya were at the heavier weights. Angela was using the new elliptical next to the treadmill. She greeted Sym, but she appeared to have headphones on. It was just as well. Sym wasn't in the mood to converse while running. She wanted to clear her head of distractions. She started running, and looked at the mirror in front of her to check her alignment. At the bench behind her, a familiar face was slowly lowering a weighted bar to his chest.

            Junkrat was wearing a pair of gym shorts, and a proper gym shoe. _What on earth?_ He, of course, was back to not wearing a shirt. Even from that distance, she could see distinct lines of muscles flexing, beads of sweat, and him breathing out in a low growl. She found it… oddly arousing. His eyes flicked to the mirror for a moment, meeting hers, and that was all it took.

            The bar slipped from his grip, coming down hard onto his chest. He coughed, and struggled to push it off him. Reinhardt’s massive hand clutched the bar, lifting it with ease. Sym stopped running for a moment, and Angela hopped over to see if everything was okay. After a few moments of looking him over, she deemed he was fine and could continue his workout. Sym returned to running. 

            _I was supposed to be clearing my head!_ She tried focusing on anything else. Eventually, she closed her eyes. It only seemed to marginally help. She didn't bring her headphones, so she was forced to listen to their chatter and grunts. _This is agony!_ She turned up the speed on the treadmill. Perhaps the increased pace would force her to focus. It was not a smart move.

            “Vatch your form! Stick zat backside out!” Reinhardt bellowed. Sym’s eyes instinctively opened. Junkrat was in the rack, coming up from a heavy weighted squat. His calf flexed, his quads clenched, and the bar across his back rest against more sculpted muscle. That was just enough to make her lose her footing. Suddenly, she found herself facedown, and she shot off the back of the treadmill. Dazed, she sat on the floor as Angela came over and saw to a sizable scrape on her calf. Even while exercising, Angela came prepared. She grabbed a small tool from her gym bag, and waved it over Sym’s minor scrape. It was healed in an instant. _I don't think I like this treadmill very much._ With only her pride remaining injured, she switched to the stationary bike instead, as it didn't face the blasted mirror! Eventually, the sounds of weights died away, and the room emptied around her. She heard his stomp-click over the concrete portion of the floor.

            “Careful, now. Don't wanna go wearin’ y’self out this early…” he lilted. The fact that he said that meant that they were most likely alone. She looked back over her shoulder. He was very clearly staring at her backside. She didn't mind. She slowly came to a stop.

            “I would like to take a shower first, and get this sweat off of me,” she called. What she left unsaid spoke volumes.

            “Seems kinda’ pointless, doncha’ think? Just gonna get right back to it soon ‘nough,”. His voice was low and husky, and his eyes smoldered. She hopped off, grabbed her towel, and dabbed her neck and forehead.

            “Perhaps… if the stalls are empty…”

            “Absolutely!” he cut in, and grabbed her wrist, pulling her along. _I can’t believe this is happening!_ Unfortunately, it wasn’t. The moment they round the corner to the shower stalls, he dropped her hand. The stalls were all full, and the pair immediately walked back out. _Oh, to hell with sweat!_

            “My room!” she whispered, and they made a silent bee-line for the dormitories. They heard the commotion long before the approached the corridor.

            “A mouse! A mouse!” Mei shrieked.

            “Don't worry! I shall save you!” Zarya boomed. Doors were opening.

            “What’s goin’ on?” Lena called.

            “Oh! Don’t kill it! It’s just scared!” Hana cried. Suddenly, three shrieks, and Zarya’s throaty bellow could be heard. Apparently, it was making laps in the hall.

            “….mmmmmmmyyyyy room?” he tentatively suggested. The look she shot him silenced that ‘option’.

            “Workshop!” he tried again. _Hmmm… My area is clean enough, and it's unlikely Torb is in there._ She agreed, and they ran up the flights of stairs to the fourth floor. Junkrat darted in before her, and she was glad she lingered outside the door, because she could hear that Torb WAS in there. _Does that man ever not work?!_ The irony of her having that thought was temporarily lost on her.

            “What brings ye in here, twiggy?” Torb asked, slightly startled at the interruption.

            “Just, uh, grabbin’ this!” he said, and she could hear him grab something off his desk.

            “Well, what a man does wit’ his tool is none of m’business,” Torb responded. Junkrat came out of the room, wrench in hand, clearly annoyed, and grabbed her wrist.

            “….where are we going?” she finally asked.

            “Fuck, I dunno. Tryin’ ta find a broom closet wit’ha lock!” he snapped. She stopped in her tracks, and so did he.

            “I don't want that to be the memory we share…” she murmured. He let out a strained and bone-weary sigh.

            “Yeah… me neither…” he replied, and rubbed his chin in thought.

            “Yer on th’second floor, yeah? South wing?” he asked, and she nodded, puzzled.

            “Alright… an hour from now, I need ya ta have yer window open, an’ a dry towel ready!” he instructed.

            “What on earth for?”

            “You’ll see!” he grinned.

            That hour ticked by rather slowly. She used the time to straighten her bed, prep the towel, quickly freshen up with a quick wipe down from the sink and a spritz of perfume. She went to her drawer, and saw the peignoir set folded at the top. She carefully pulled it out. _Would he even like this, or will he find it… silly?_ A moment of buyer’s remorse washed over her, but the fabric was soft, and she couldn't resist. She slipped it on, and it fit perfectly. She threw on the matching robe, and knotted the belt. Sym switched the lighting to the soft glow of the lamp, opened the window, and listened to the sounds in the hall while she waited.

            The mouse had been caught, and Hana was fighting fiercely to be allowed to keep it as a pet. Zarya said it needed to be let outside. Lena added that Winston had a strict no-pets policy after an incident with former-member’s pet tarantula. The group argued about what to do with the mouse, when a crack of thunder rolled. With the brewing storm, they agreed that Hana could keep the mouse for the night, and let it go in the morning. The group retreated to their rooms. The rain and wind kicked up something fierce, and the cracks and rumbles became more frequent. There was one particularly bright flash, a crack that sounded incredibly close, and suddenly Junkrat was sailing through her bedroom window! He landed in a heap, soaking wet, and giggling. He was still in his gym clothes. Startled, she hopped off the bed, and brought the towel over. He grabbed it, and started drying off.

            “Where there’za will, there’za way!” he quipped, and she couldn't stop herself from laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. She quickly closed the window as he rumpled the towel over his head, leaving his hair a tousled mess, and draped it over his shoulders. Hands on hips, he gave her a once over. He raised an eyebrow.

            “New robe?” he asked, and she gave a quick nod before looking down at the floor.

            “Oh! Your dripping all over the floor! Quick! Dry off in here, where there’s tile,” she instructed, pushing him into the water closet. He didn't mind, and she was surprised to find that he shut the door behind him. The sound of his wet shorts hit the floor, and he had the foresight to toss them in the sink to dry. He was silent through the process. Sym stood by the side of her bed, nervously waiting. The door opened.

            “Whacha think? Makes m’look like a samurai, yeah?” he grinned. He stood hands on hips. He had on her burgundy robe. The sleeve that would have covered his metal arm hung empty behind him, exposing half his chest. The other sleeve was far too short for his other arm, and while full-length on her, the bottom hem barely covered his knees. Sym chuckled, thankful for the break in tension,

            “I think the appropriate term for you would be ‘ronin’. A swordsman who knows no master,” she corrected. She had heard of the term in film and literature. He smirked at her response, and stepped closer. His hand cupped her face, and tilted it upwards. He leaned in, sealing her in a kiss. It wasn't the long passionate union as the last one had been. She only felt his tongue barely touch her bottom lip, but it still sent a shiver, and when he slowly pulled away, she found she was breathless. He once again ran his thumb along her jaw, never breaking eye contact. His amber orbs burned right through her, and she welcomed it. 

            She felt incredibly warm, and slowly undid the belt to her robe. Hesitant, she slid it off her shoulders, and let it drop to the floor. He said nothing. His eyes grew a little wider. The smile left, slowly melting into something she couldn't quite place at first. She looked away, nervously.

            “I… Um… do you find it unpleasant?” she quietly asked. His metal hand came to rest around the small of her back, and he pulled her in incredibly close. He tucked her hair behind her ear.

            “No. Just… Christ, Satya, you’re so beautiful!” he whispered, slightly breathless. She'd never heard him speak like that before. She finally understood the look on his face. It wasn’t displeasure. It was awe. He leaned in for another kiss, and this time, it was long and deep. He stroked the side of her jaw with his thumb, and his tongue ran alongside hers. For a moment, she didn't think he'd ever stop it. She felt her arms instinctively wrap around his torso. The motion fueled him, and she felt herself lift off the floor. She was on her back, pressed against her bed. He braced himself over her with his metal arm, and he stood between her legs.

            “Y’sure ya want this?” he asked. The question was softly spoken; gentle.

            “Yes. And you?” she murmured back. He let out a chuckle and shook his head.

            “Yeah. Think that's fair ta say. Only got one rule, though. Ya find ya don't like somethin’ I’m doin’, ya’ need t’tell me, right? An’ then I’ll stop. M’feelins won't be hurt. Alright with you?” he asked. His consideration was thoroughly surprising, and she nodded in response.

            “The same rule applies to you as well,” she added, and his eyebrows raised in surprise before settling into something almost roguish.

            “A’course. Didn't realize ya had somethin’ in mind,” he responded, his voice once again husky. She really didn't have an idea of what to try, but she felt like she needed to get his confirmation, too. He brushed kisses along her jaw, and down her neck, where he lingered a bit, feeling the throb of her pulse beating against his lips. She let out a soft sigh, and her eyes slowly closed. He came to her shoulders, and he quickly undid the clasp at the back of her neck. The straps pushed below, he continued across her collar bone. A flash of lightning illuminated the room for a moment, and she wasn't sure if it was the storm or his touch, but she found herself feeling positively electric. She reached up, and tugged the robe collar off his shoulder, and he slid his arm out, fully exposing his upper body.

            His hand tugged at the draping fabric of the peignoir, and he slowly pulled it down, exposing her breasts. He kissed her between the valley, and she ran her fingers through his hair. Her nails lightly scored his scalp, and he let out an exhale of pleasure. The fabric was pulled slowly, exposing more of her torso. He cupped her breast for a moment, lightly massaging it, before his hand slid lower. The trail of kisses worked a path down the length of her sternum, across her taught belly. He placed a few extra kisses on her navel, and a ticklish giggle escaped her. He seemed to like that. It brought a smile to his face. Finally, he worked the peignoir over the widest part of her hips, and it slipped to the floor. He paused, staring at the black lace covering her.

            “Well, now. Those’re fancy. I like ‘em, but they’re kinda’… in the way,” he said, and suddenly she felt the pad of his thumb stoke between her legs. She let out a soft moan of surprise, and he liked that even more. He nipped at her hipbone, catching the edge of the lace in his teeth. Slowly, he dragged the lace down. His hand helped shimmy them over the swell of her round backside, and down her legs. She lay fully bare in front of him, and he took a moment to enjoy the view.

            “Fuckin’ Christ. Didn't… didn't know I'd be pleasin’ a goddess t’night!” he murmured, and there was a tinge of a hungry growl in his words. Her heart raced, and a shy smile came over her. She tried covering it with the back of her hand, but he clenched each of hers in his for a moment, and held her gaze. Amber met gold, and ever so slowly, his head lowered. He fell to his knees, and she could feel the heat of his breath against her thighs.

            He took turns placing kisses and soft bites upon each one, only to turn to the other and do the exact same. He was making sure to keep everything balanced and symmetrical. Satya’s fingers wound back through his hair as his hands massaged her hips. Even the rough metal of his prosthetic was delicate, never placing too much pressure. He was so close, and the proximity drove her mad.

            “Jaime…” she breathlessly called. She worried if he'd like being called that. Her worry was unfounded, because he very clearly did. As if his name were a command, his fingers ran along the length of her slick opening. He parted her delicate folds, and then his tongue was upon her.

            “JAIME!” she gasped at the shock. A light snort of a laugh came from between her thighs. He seemed to rather enjoy her response! His tongue probed, discovering every bit outside. She bit her lip to not cry out at the intensity, and her hips rolled upwards. His tongue slipped inside, and she felt a new burst of heat lance through her. She could not fathom the things his tongue was doing. She clenched a bit tighter on his hair, pushing his head in closer. His tongue retreated, and she gave a quiet moan of protest. His lips were upon her tight knot. He sucked ever so slightly, and it nearly undid her.

            “F-fuck!” she hissed. She ached. Gods, how she ached! He pulled away.

            “Satya… Can I feel ya’? Please? Fuck, I need t’be inside ya,” he whispered between her thighs.

            “Yes…” she whispered back. Jamison slowly stood, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and shifted her so she lay on the bed properly. He undid the belt to the robe, letting it fall and expose every bit of him. The peek she had the other night did not do him justice. He stood there, rock hard and ready, as his gaze swept over her. She could feel the heat emanating from him. He climbed onto the bed, and positioned himself between her legs. He lowered himself down, bracing his weight on his elbows. He entrapped her completely. Jamison slowly slid in, and her eyebrows knit with slight discomfort. He stopped, and looked into her eyes.

            “Need me t’stop?” he murmured. She shook her head no.

            “No. It's just… been a while. I need a moment to adjust,” she replied. He dropped his forehead against hers.

            “Take yer time, love… Fuck, you're tight.” he said, ending with a hiss of pleasure. He threaded the fingers of his good hand in her hair, and brushed kisses on her forehead, and then more on her lips. Her hips slowly began to roll, and her back arched ever so slightly. It was signal enough, and he began to slowly thrust.

            The feeling of him completely insider her was indescribable. She felt utterly fulfilled; complete. His hips rocked a slow rhythm, and she slid her hands along his chest, and around to his back. She lightly scored her nails across hard muscles, and surprisingly soft skin. She placed kisses along his freckled shoulders, and up his neck. His pulse quickened, and so did his rhythm.

            “God, y’feel so good. So fucking perfect!” he growled a little louder than he meant to. His quickened pace brought forth a series of moans that only grew louder with each passing moment. Her hips instinctively rocked in tandem, matching his pace. One thing was certain. Jamison Fawkes had stamina. She had lost track of time, but she didn't care. The rhythm he kept up was too good. Each stroke made the coil tighter and brought her closer to the edge. She wasn't paying attention to stupid things like volume and surrounding, and neither was he. Her bed squeaked, but she hardly noticed. The two moaned and grunted in tandem, and she loved every sound he made.

            “Please tell me you're gettin’ close. Been thinkin’ ‘bout this f’so long, don't know how much longer I can go!” he breathed in her ear.

            “So close!” she quietly cried, and it was music to his ears. His pace hit a fever pitch, and he rolled his hips with each thrust. Her breaths grew faster. He could feel her body slowly tighten, and clench.

            “Jaime… Jaime, JAIME H-aaah!” She cried as the earth shattered around her. Gods, she was seeing stars! Every bit of her tightened around him, and he felt the rhythmic flutter around his cock, and a new wave of heat and wetness. It was too much.

            “S-Satya… fuck!” He hissed, and he unspooled within her, his breath ragged, and teeth clenched at the intensity. They held still for a moment, and gazed into each other’s eyes, now glazed over from pleasure and release. Reluctantly, he withdrew from her softness, and laid beside her. He rested his head upon her breasts, and breathed in her scent. Her heart was still slamming in her chest, and she slowly stroked his head.

 

            “Fuckin’ don’t know what I did t’deserve ya’, but m’glad I did it…” he mumbled, on the edge of sleep. She didn't have words at the moment. Her mind was still spinning from the best climax she ever had. Exhausted, her lids drooped, and she started to drift off to sleep. He didn’t know why he said it out loud, but in the silence of her bedroom, his whisper punctuated her dreams.

            “I think... I think I'm in love with ya…”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A PSA from your friendly neighborhood JuJu: Alright, so here's the deal. I am, of course, an avid advocate of safe-sex practices. Use protection, use birth control, get regular screenings. You know, all that not so fun stuff so you can safely do fun stuff. As a storyteller, however, I didn't want to navigate the awkwardness of "look! I snagged a rubber from the medical wing!" and so on. So here's my thinking. Some sexual health headcanon, as it were. With medical advancements, cures have been found for pretty much every STI, and preventative vaccines are pretty standard. Upon joining the Recall, all members had a complete physical, and were caught up on all immunizations, essentially eliminating the worry of passing anything around. Vishkar is a very cut-throat and controlling sort of company, and they don't want to hassle with their employees wanting to do things like have kids and start families (you have to apply for approval if you want to do that, and you're essentially put on sabbatical). As such, Sym is contractually obligated to be on birth control, so that was something she wasn't worried about, either. Yeah, I know these notes ain't sexy, but I felt the need to cover it. It would be too out of character to expect her to agree to unprotected sex. The more you know!


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our lovers enjoy some afterglow, but learn that they may have to rethink their strategy. Sym makes some new discoveries about Rat.

            He nuzzled his face into the pillows. They were incredibly warm, soft, and smelled like her.

            “Are you ever planning to leave this position?” Sym asked. He slowly opened his eyes. They weren't pillows at all. _Mmm… big brown beautiful titties…_ The question hung in the air, and he shook his head no.

            “We need to get up at some point,” Sym reminded.

            “Mmf. Leff jeff ftay hrrr,” he mumbled, his voice incredibly muffled.

            “What?” she asked, unable to make out what he said. He reluctantly groaned, and pulled his face away.

            “I said, let’s just stay here. C’mon! Th’whole day!” he clarified and pleaded. Last night had been hands-down the greatest night of Junkrat’s life, and he was rather reluctant to leave the afterglow. He'd gladly spend the rest of his days right there in that bed, cramped though it was.

            “You know that's not possible. We need to get some sort of work done today, and we also have that meeting in the afternoon,” she reminded him.

            “All th’more reason t’stay here!” he countered. She gave a soft chuckle, and played with a lock of his blonde hair.

            “I agree, but we are still obligated,” she replied, with a sense of finality on the subject. He grumbled, and buried his face back into her cleavage.

            “Fine! Fi’ m’r minnif,” he begged, and (after deciphering what he said) she agreed to the short extension. She finally managed to tear herself away from the octopus-like grip he had around her, and slowly climbed out of bed. She gave a slight wince, and stretched the sore muscles in her legs. In the morning daylight, he could see her nakedness in full detail, and he felt a twinge below the blanket. _Easy, mate. Let’s not rush things! Poor thing can barely walk straight!_  Sym went to her closet, and started pulling out clothes. She laid out one of her many Vishkar uniforms.

            “Been meanin’ t’ask… what's with th’suits? Thought ya didn’ work f’them no more,” he finally ventured. Sym paused a moment, surprised by his question. She went over to her dresser to pull out more clothes.

            “I am technically still in their employ… I am here to both favorably represent Vishkar, as well as monitor the corporation’s financial investment,” she explained.

            “Investment?”.

            “Yes. Vishkar is Overwatch’s largest financial support. How else would we be able to afford running this facility?” she clarified. Her words gnawed at him. “ _Paradise may have an underbelly”._ He wanted the full story, but he also didn't want to ruin the last few minutes of the afterglow with serious discussion. A yawn came over him.

            “Fuck, it's early. Think I’m gonna need somethin’ stronger than tea t’keep me goin’ t’day,” he groaned while he stretched, and scratched his belly. Sym slipped on her robe, and he gave a grumble of protest.

            “Aw, whyd’ja have ta go n’put clothes on?” he whined. She smirked, and stepped into her water closet.

            “Well, I certainly can't walk to the showers nude, now can I?” she pointed out.

            “I mean… y’could. Don't think too many folk’d mind. I certainly wouldn't,” he teased. Suddenly, his gym shorts came flying out, smacking him in the face.

            “Put your shorts on. I need to sneak you out of here,” she reminded him. They were dry, for the most part, and he reluctantly shimmied them on. She also tossed him his sock and gym shoe.

            “So, should I just slip out, or…?”. Sym thought about it.

            “Mmm… It's early, but everyone may be up…” she mulled, and seemed to have an idea. She stepped back over to the window, and opened it up. He finished knotting his laces, and looked up to see her quickly weaving something with her hard light. She flicked downwards, and out the window sprouted a make-shift ladder. She held the ends, and he gaped at the sudden creation.

            “Y’know, last night coulda’ been a lot easier had I known you coulda’ done that!” he quipped.

            “I was a bit distracted last night. My critical thinking skills were fairly impaired. Hurry, now. This ladder is only stable for so long,” she quipped back. He clambered out the window, and carefully secured his footing on the rungs. She leaned out, making sure he could climb down safely.

            “See ya at breakfast?” he called. She nodded.

            “Oh! Almost f’got somethin’!” he said, clambering back up towards the window.

            “What did you forget?” she asked, puzzled. He didn't answer her. He just planted a kiss on her lips with a comically loud smack.

            “That!” he grinned, and he climbed back down. The moment he was on solid ground, she unclasped the edges of the ladder, and the blue metal dissipated into nothingness. She waved him on, and then closed her window.

            Sneaking back into the compound in the bright morning light was not as simple as sneaking out in the cover of darkness. He managed to avoid any windows on the ground floor, and slipped in through the hangar. Once he was inside, he made it the rest of the way to his room easily enough. He switched out of his gym clothes back to his usual denim and t-shirt. His stomach gave a loud angry growl. _I'm on it, I'm on it!_

Junkrat, as always, sat next to Roadhog, who was busy reading The Highwayman’s Brother (the ‘thrilling’ sequel to The Highwayman’s Lover). He gave him a quick ‘mornin!’, before tucking in to breakfast, and gulping down coffee. Pipsqueak trudged in, looking exhausted and annoyed. Shadows circled her eyes. She slowly passed by their table.

            “Y’look like shit,” Junkrat snickered, knowing she wouldn't take actual offense. She glared at him. _Or maybe she would?_

            “Yeah. Had a hard time falling asleep last night…” she seethed. She looked at Hog, who peeked up from his book. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a bill, slapping it down in front of the colossal Junker. Pipsqueak turned back, giving Junkrat another glare, and trudged off towards the hot cases. Hog’s head turned from the cash on the table, to Junkrat, and then back down to the bill. Without saying a word, he simply pocketed the bill, and went back to reading. Junkrat slurped his coffee rather loudly.

            “’bout bloody time,” was all Hog said under his breath.

            “Stuff it!” he hissed.

            “Sounds like y’already did…”. Junkrat wanted to yell at him, but frankly, that was a pretty good come-back. Hog reached into his pocket, and pulled the bill back out. He slid it along the table towards Junkrat.

            “Do Pipsqueak a favor, though. Buy ‘er some nice headphones. The soundproofin’ here is shit,”. Junkrat rubbed his forehead in annoyance, but he still pocketed the money. He proceeded to shovel hash browns in his mouth just so he'd have an excuse to not talk, but eventually the coffee started to kick in, and he was in a downright pleasant mood. He paused in his eating, and lost himself in thought. 

            If somebody had told him three years ago that he was going to escape the hellhole that was Junkertown, he would have laughed right in their stupid face. If they told him he'd go on to have a storied career as an international criminal mastermind, he'd have told them to fuck off. If they went on to say he'd actually end up joining Overwatch, he'd probably kick them in the dick (assuming they had one). And if they told him he’d actually find love? _Maybe I'm gettin’ aheada m’self. She didn't even hear me when I said it._ Still, the thought of the previous night brought another big stupid grin on his face. Everything about her was amazing and perfect and beautiful and God, why was such gorgeous creature even giving him the time of day? The only way things could be better was if he got to blow something up. _Maybe I'll do some test runs t’day…_

            “You too? Thought it was just the ladies!” Jesse’s voice shook him from his love-sick musings.

            “Wot?” he asked, looking up from his half-eaten breakfast. Jesse took a seat at their table, and Junkrat suppressed a bristle of annoyance. _That’s Sym’s seat, ya knob!_

            “Yeah. Ladies all seem t’be in good moods today. Got big ol’ smiles on their faces. Zarya, Lena. Well, she always smiles. Mei too. Hell, even heard Sym hummin’ in the showers. Can ya believe that?” the cowboy explained, and knocked back his coffee.

            “Somethin’ in th’air, I guess,” was Junkrat’s explanation. Hana passed by their table again, this time with a tray of food in tow. She glared at Junkrat some more before taking a seat two tables over, and cracked open a can of an energy drink. Jesse thumbed over to her.

            “Guess she’s breathin’ different air, then,”.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            “To reiterate. There are absolutely no pets allowed in this facility. That includes bringing in local wildlife. I will not have another Tina the Tarantula incident.” Winston droned. The meeting dragged, and all Junkrat wanted to do was get out of the cramped room, and drag Sym back to bed with him. He peered at her from his usual spot at the back. Even she seemed to not be paying attention. Winston shuffled the papers in front of him. The meeting was nothing of substance. For the most part, it was just a chance for Winston to yell at everyone collectively over rule-breaking, or reminding the team of any current events of interest.

            “On a final note, several of you complained of a loud knocking sound coming from the women’s dormitories. It could very well be the ventilation system in that wing. I'll have Athena run a diagnostic report, and will get back to you if we need to make repairs,” the ape finished, dismissing them. Sym passed by him in the hall on the way back to the workshop. Her cheeks were a bright red, and she waited until everyone else dispersed before she could bring herself to make eye contact with him.

            “We may need to rethink our strategy…” she whispered.

            “What, like, you on top? 'Cause I am all for that!” he stated, excitedly. She peered around to make sure no one was in the corridor.

            “You know what I mean! I didn't realize we were so… audible last night!” she snipped, but ended with a stifled smirk. It was almost as if she were secretly proud of that fact.

            “I could try… an’ I know this is gonna’ sound crazy, s’bare with me…” he breathed in for comedic effect, “… ta clean m’room!”. Sym started with a quiet snicker, which turned into a chuckle, and then into a belly laugh. He would have found it adorable, were it not at his expense. And then she snorted. _Okay, so that’s adorable…_

            “Alright, ‘nough a that! I mean it! Already got started th’other day!” he cut in, and her laugh slowly died away to a look of pleasant surprise.

            “Surely, you're joking!”.

            “I ain’t, an’ don't call me Shirley!” he answered. She folded her arms, considering the possibility.

            “When was the last time you washed your bedding?” she asked.

            “Wash?”. Sym let out an extremely weary sigh, and rubbed her temple. He thought he heard her mutter “oh my gods” under her breath.

            “I’ll get new beddin…”. He held his grin for added sincerity. Sym gave a pause, staring him in the eye to gauge whether or not he was telling the truth.

            “Wait! Neighbors! Surely, if mine heard us, yours will, too!” she logically concluded.

            “I’m on the end, love. Only neighbor is Hog, and once he’s in his room, he’s down f’the count. Ain't nothin’ gonna wake him!” he reassured. He was, of course, lying. He knew Hog would be able to hear, but he didn't care. Two and a half years of a life on the road with a bodyguard meant pretty thin (if any) boundaries, and he knew Hog wouldn't say anything to or about Sym. That little fib did the trick.

            “You will finish cleaning and obtain fresh bedding. If I deem your work satisfactory, I just may have to reward you…” she ordered, raising her eyebrows.

            “Reward, eh? What didja’ have in mind?” he asked, trying not to sound too eager. Her face was cool; almost stoic, but her tone held a bit of allure.

            “Well, I suppose, if we are to be fair, I will have to demonstrate my skills, too,”. _Thank you sweet merciful God-bloke in heaven!_

            “Second floor, north wing, far left corner, ten o’clock!” he rushed, before tearing off down the hall towards his room. He still had a lot of work ahead of him!

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            At 9:55, Sym approached the north tower, and stood outside in the grass. She would have much rather gone through the corridor, but there were people everywhere. Roadhog and Reinhardt were taking turns pushing Jesse and Torb down the halls in rolling office chairs to see who could fling them the farthest. It was stupid boyish fun (though they insisted it was serious scientific research), and she wouldn’t dare interrupt it. Nor could she. She had no actual reason to be there, and her presence would be far too suspicious.

_I can't believe I am actually doing this!_ If she had ever even attempted something similar at Vishkar, she would have been fired on the spot! Yet, there she was, outside, tossing pebbles at a window, hoping the mad Australian would open up. There was a very audible tumble and crash, a few hissed obscenities, and then the window open.

            “The bloody hell ya doin’ outside?! That's my shtick!” he loudly whispered. Sym crossed her arms, and cocked her hip to her side.

            “The hall was filled with your neighbors!” she informed.

            “Yeah, they're gonna run outta steam soon ‘nough. C’mon up!” he said, waving her in. She brought up another hard light ladder, and he held it against the window to steady it as she climbed up. He reached out, grabbed her by her waist, and pulled her in. The ladder dissipated behind her. She had been apprehensive about the state she would find his room in, and she discovered it was surprisingly… not horrible.

            Unlike the glimpse she got a few nights ago, the walls were now vacant of sooty handprints. The floors lacked dirty footprints and random parts. The desk was, well, crammed full of papers and junk, but the top was slightly organized with only a couple stacks of notebooks. The dirty dishes were long gone. The bed was… made (sort of) … though she could tell by the scent that his bedding was all new. It was really just the standard bedding one would find in the supply closets, but she'd overlook his lack of interior aesthetics. The room didn't even smell like gunpowder. It actually smelled fresh! And she noticed he even scrubbed himself all the way from top to bottom. He was probably the cleanest she’d ever seen him.

            “Soooooooo?” he asked, waving his hands around to gesture the entire room. She crossed her arms and walked around, as if in serious inspection.

            “Hmmm… Well, you lose points for missing the footprint on the ceiling, but you earn them back for managing to get a footprint some place so… impressive,” she critiqued, staring up at the orange paint above.

            “I was bored,” he explained. _I suppose you'd have to be!_ She rubbed her chin.

            “I give this effort a satisfactory mark,” she concluded. His face lit up. _If I knew it was this easy to get him to clean…._ A loud crash outside jostled her from her critique.

            “Too hard!” Jesse grunted, and Hog heaved a throaty laugh. _Goodness, they're still at it. We can't do this here until they all at least leave the corridor!_ Junkrat seemed to sense the issue she was having. He ushered her away from the door, and stuck his head out.

            “WOULD YA STUPID FUCKIN’ COCKSPLATS KNOCK IT OFF?! SOME A US ARE TRYIN’ TA SLEEP!” he bellowed. _Oh my gods…._ He pulled his head back in, and flashed her a toothy smile as the door hissed close.

            “That should do it!” he snickered. Sure enough, Reinhardt mentioned he was tired, and Torb grumbled that he was, too. Jesse was still winded, and Hog trudged to his room. Sym walked around his room in further inspection, more so because she was curious. She was beginning to realize that she actually knew very little about him, and she hoped to change that. _He knows very little about me as well, but that is a conversation for another time._

She walked over to his bookshelf, and started reading the titles. _I had no idea he had a personal library._ Most of the books appeared to be old college textbooks and mechanical manuals, but there were also a few comic anthologies stuffed between. She smirked at the mix of titles, and turned towards his closet. Her fingers had just about touched the switch to open it, when he finally spoke up.

            “Wouldn't recommend that. May cause an avalanche. Sides, nothin’ but parts and what-have-ya’s in there,” he warned. Her hand pulled back, and she looked over her shoulder. He seemed to like watching her explore. She walked over to his dresser. She was curious as to what he actually kept in it (since he didn't really own clothes), but she supposed it would be rude to open his drawers. She saw a crown lazily tossed on top, and she picked it up. _This looks like the Crown Jewels! Well, a shoddy replica, anyways._ She put it back in its spot. His headset and empty grenade harness sat there as well. She turned again towards the desk, and grabbed a black notebook, which caused him to reach over, and pluck it from her hands. _Did I overstep my bounds?_ His face grew a touch red.

            “Heheh, whoops! Maybe not that one… You try bein’ fourteen alone in the Outback!” he offered as an explanation, and he hastily shoved the notebook in a drawer. Sym shook her head in response. She had an inkling of the images that probably lay inside. She reached for a different notebook with a blue cover, and there was a look of approval on his face. She flicked through the pages.

            “You have a good eye for design… Your use of light and shadow are quite intriguing… Overall, you seem to have a decent sense of composition, though your proportioning is a touch off…” she critiqued. She really was impressed. Most of the sketches were of people, though some of it was also wildlife. As she neared towards the back of the notebook, she noticed the images changed to the familiar faces of team members. Hana was busy with a controller in her hand. He perfectly captured the look of the gamer’s intense concentration. There was one of Hog dozing in a chair, Jesse lounging on the grass, Angela in her Valkyrie suit, and so on. The second to last page was a profile sketch of her dressed for a mission. She took in a breath of surprise. Of all his drawings, it was the most detailed, and she noticed a few little hearts in the bottom corner. She turned, looking back at him, and his face was pink. He nervously scratched his head.

            “Y’like ‘em?” he asked, a timbre of agitation in his voice. She closed it, and smiled.

            “Quite,”. He gave an exaggerated sigh of relief, and threw himself onto his bed. Laying on his side, he patted the empty space next to him. She accepted, and (after kicking off her shoes. She would not suffer dirt in the bed) she lay down beside him. He wrapped his arm around her, and pulled her in, tucking her head under his chin. Something on his nightstand caught her eye. It was a small cardboard box that looked like it had been turned into a miniature bed.

            “What on earth is that?” she asked, pointing to the box. He reached over, and grabbed it to bring in close. It was indeed a tiny bed, and tucked underneath a scrap of orange fabric were the three little blue mice she had made for him.

            “You kept them?” she asked, feeling a flutter form in her stomach.

            “Well, a’course I would! You made ‘em for me. Gotta’ take care a’them. S’why I made them a cozy bed!” he merrily chirped. He pulled the tiny blanket back, revealing that they were numbered, and tapped number one.

            “That is Jamison Junior, and this one is Deuce, and the little sheila on the end is Lil’ Trina!” he beamed. Sym gave a soft chuckle, turned, and pecked him on the chin.

            “That is absolutely ridiculous… but sweet. I see now that they are in good hands,” she replied, and he pulled the blanket back over, covering them back up. He slid the box back onto the nightstand.

            “Yeah, we better keep our voices down, though. It's past their bedtime,” he said, his voice ending in a rough whisper, and he rolled onto his back.

            “So… everythin’ like y’expected?” he finally asked. Sym rolled onto her back, too.

            “I think I can honestly say no. I never quite know what to expect with you, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy what I find,” she answered. Her response caused him to erupt into a cheek-splitting grin.

            “Mm. Good. I like keepin’ ya on y'toes!” he clucked. He brought his arms up, and laced his fingers behind his head.

            “So, got a mark of approval t’night?”.

            “Yes,”.

            “Seem t’ remember ya sayin’ somethin’ ‘bout a reward…” he teased. Sym took the hint, and when she realized it truly was silent in the hall, she got up, and switched the harsh overhead light to lamplight. He still lay stretched out on his bed, hands behind his head in a lazy sort of pose. She silently climbed on top of him, perching upon his thighs. She slowly ran her hand down the hard plane of his stomach, and stopped at the edge of black denim. Her thumb flicked the button open, and she slowly slid his zipper down. He raised an eyebrow in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok sweet babies! I promise I'll start adding some more drama and action from this point on. Just had a lot of fluff to work through (though, I feel that y'all don't mind). Oh! and there will be more smut, so stay tuned! ;)


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat wants to plan the perfect date night, but everything falls apart.

            “FUCKING SHIT, YER FEET ARE COLD!” Junkrat gasped. He may have loved her, but even he had his limits.

            “That’s for being so loud when you climaxed!” she hissed, “I don't want people finding out!”.

            “Oh, no one can hear us! Mei already sleeps with earplugs, and I got Pipsqueak those headphones that cancel out all th’noise!” he hissed back. It was Friday morning, and he had once again snuck into her room. The past few days had been amazing. They took turns sneaking around, staying the night. The sex was dynamite, and the cuddles? Well, maybe it made him feel stupid to admit it, but that was his favorite part… _Okay, so maybe it’s a tie_. In the mornings, they'd sneak back out, and pretend like nothing had happened. According to Hana and Hog, no one seemed to really be catching on. Even Torb was playing it remarkably discreet. Sym had no idea he knew, and the more Junkrat thought about it, the more he realized that he was getting caught up in a web of secrets and lies.

            It was cute at first. It was a fun little adventure, and something to look forward to, but even he knew it was something he couldn’t keep up forever. Nor did he even want to. For the first time in his life, things were going well. Really well! He wanted to shout it from the rooftops, not hide it away. But first, he supposed he should actually say the words to her; I love you, and, in typical Junkrat fashion, he wanted to make a bit of a spectacle of it.

            Sym, having properly warmed her feet, pulled them off his back, and inched back up to spoon him from behind. She made up for it by pushing her whole body up against him. Her arm wrapped around his stomach as her cheek smooshed against his back.

            “Apologies for the rudeness of my feet. They needed to be warmed, and you are the closest thing to a living furnace that I have ever encountered,” Sym mumbled against his back.

            “I s’pose I’ll forgive ya… ‘Specially after last night…” he added. He learned over the past few evenings that Sym had a very special gift, and it was fellatio. The first night she did it, Hog told him the next day that he thought Junkrat had swallowed his eyeballs, judging by the sounds he made. _Christ, it felt like it!_

            “Hmm… We should get up. We have the briefing in an hour and a half, and I don't want to miss breakfast. People may notice when neither of us shows up…” she instructed. Junkrat heaved a heavy sigh.

            “Yeah, I know. Pants on an’ out th’window…”.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            “Before we begin, I would like to take a moment to give a disclaimer. The following mission is completely voluntary. There will be no issue for those who do not wish to participate. Again… Voluntary. I also ask that you remain quiet until I am finished speaking, and then I will answer any questions any of you may have…” Winston started. The disclaimer was rather unusual, and the crew looked around, exchanging curious glances.

            “We were contacted by some old acquaintances in hopes that we could provide safe passage for a person of interest. This person is a public figure, and, in light of recent events, has reason to believe that he and his student are being targeted…” Winston continued. He clicked at his tablet, and two images came up on the screen behind him. One of a masked figure with a glowing strip of green. The other, an Omnic! Junkrat’s blood immediately began to boil. He flicked his eyes towards Hog, who's hands curled into fists. They were not the only ones displeased by the “person of interest”.

            “You’re joking, I assume?” Zarya interrupted.

            “Should just boil dat t’ing down fer scrap!” Torb muttered

            “Ain’t a bloody person, mate!” Junkrat growled. The muttering and insults continued until Winston slammed his fist on the podium.

            “Enough! I know most of you have no like for Omnics, but I will not tolerate any further interruptions! Again, this briefing is for anyone who wishes to volunteer, and I need you all to at least be aware of the details, even if you're not participating… Continuing: the figure is Tekhartha Zenyatta, a former member of the Shambali. Though he has left them, the Shambali still gave him a temporary safe haven until permanent arrangements could be made. His student has already traveled to Numbani, and has set up said arrangements. Anyone who volunteers will join myself, Lena, and Angela to Nepal, and from there, Numbani. I don't anticipate having any trouble along the way, but I'd prefer to have as many able bodies as are willing. We are to leave Sunday. Anyone who wishes to join us can find me in my office. Any questions?”. The room erupted in angry comments, and noticeable unease. When he realized no one was actually going to ask a question, he dismissed the grumbling team.

            _Bloody Omnics! Good luck findin’ volunteers, ya stupid ape!_ Junkrat rolled his shoulders, and stomped out of the room behind Roadhog. The news put everyone in a sour mood. Work dragged, and he tried focusing on the one person who could possibly make the day better. Sym, however, seemed to be concentrating extra hard on rewiring Mei’s little robot. There was a moment when Torb finally stepped out of the workroom, and Junkrat used the opportunity to wheel himself over.

            “Awful quiet there, gorgeous! Somethin’ buggin’ ya?” he asked, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

            “Just concentrating. I haven't done actual wiring in quite some time. It is not coming to me as intuitively as hard light…” she replied, absentmindedly. He drummed his fingers over his chin, debating if he should offer to help, but she seemed to be doing it well enough on her own.

            “So, I was thinkin’… Got the weekend here. Was wondering if maybe ya’d wanna’ go out t’night? Y’know… Like a real date?” he asked. He'd never been on one before, but he was vaguely aware of the concept, and it seemed like something she’d know how to navigate. She looked up, and there was a slight look of disappointment.

            “Oh… I would, but tonight is Girls Night, and I already agreed. Perhaps tomorrow night?” she offered.

            “Alright. S’pose it can wait a day… Gives me time ta figure out what it is y’actually DO on a date, so no worries!” he joked. Sym gave a small chuckle.

            “Well, it depends on the person, but usually you have dinner, possibly drinks, and conversation. Really, though, it can be whatever you like,” she filled in. They could hear Torb’s steps echoing down the hall, and he rolled back to his spot.

            “T’morrow night it is, then!” he grinned.

            Several hours later, with Sym and the other women gone, Junkrat devised a plan. He wanted everything to be perfect. Hog would take them into town, and Sym would get to enjoy riding in the sidecar with him. Then, while Hog unwound in a bar, he’d take her somewhere to get something to eat. He wasn't really sure where, but Pipsqueak said there was a food truck that would set up near the beach, and that their food was to die for. Then, maybe they'd just sit out on the sand and enjoy the scenery. He still hated the ocean, but at least it looked pretty. And then he'd tell her! He told himself he wouldn't hold back! He'd let the words ring out as loud as possible, and then she’d say it back, and then maybe he could even convince her to stop keeping it all a secret from everyone. The plan was fool proof. _It's gonna’ be absolutely perfect!_

            She came down to the hangar after dinner on Saturday night. Lena had just left, having made final preparations for the next day’s mission, and it was just him and Hog waiting at the motorcycle. She was wearing the navy blue tunic again. Cute, but casual. Surprisingly, she seemed a little nervous. She approached the sidecar cautiously.

            “What’sa matter?” he asked.

            “I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before…” she hesitantly stated.

            “You’ll be riding in th’sidecar, with me!” he grinned.

            “I don’t suppose there are seatbelts?” she asked.

            “I’ll be yer seatbelt, love!” he grinned again, and wrapped his arms around her tightly to show what a good job he’d do.

            “There isn't a helmet, perchance, is there?” she asked. He was a step ahead of her. He reached into the seat, and pulled out a massive black motorcycle helmet that had previously sat unused in his closet for ages. He shoved it over her head, and it was without a doubt the most ludicrous thing he'd ever seen. The damn thing was nearly as wide as her shoulders, and the visor covered her face completely. She turned and looked at him.

            “I don't look ridiculous, do I?” her muffled voice asked. He stifled the grin, and flicked the visor open. Her tiny face peered out of the opening.

            “Never!” he lied. He hopped into his usual seat, hoisted her up, and sat her on his lap. He flipped her visor back down, and wrapped her up tight.

            “Alright, Hog! Let's hit it!” he instructed, and Hog turned the key. The engine revved, and Sym flinched at the sound. They slowly started to roll towards the wide hangar exit when a bright flash of lightning stopped them. It was instantly followed by a loud crack of thunder, and then rain started to fall. In an instant, it had gone from sprinkle to downpour.

            “Well, shit!” he hissed. The night was ruined! All his plans, all his excitement. Everything! Hog backed the bike up, and turned it off.

            “I don't ride in the rain,” he muttered, and trudged out of the hangar. Junkrat reached over, and tugged the helmet off of her head. She quickly smoothed her hair back in place, and looked at him awkwardly.

            “Now what?” she asked. Now what, indeed? No! He wasn't going to fail! He was on a mission tonight! It was going to happen! Just… A little differently than he had anticipated. He rubbed his chin.

            “Hang on a second!” and he ran out of the hangar. He returned a few minutes later with a couple of spare blankets and pillows he pilfered from the supply closet. He pushed up a couple supply crates to lean against, and made a cozy little nest for the two of them to bunch up in. It was better than nothing. He hoped she liked watching the rain. He spread his arms out.

            “Whaddaya think? Got a nice view out th’door, cozy spot? Good comp’ny,” he said, waving his arms wide as if in offering. She rubbed her chin in thought.

            “It needs something. A moment, please. I'll return soon,” she promised. He waited, and tried to imagine what she had in mind. She came back a little while later with some snacks she pilfered from the kitchens; a bunch of grapes, a couple apples, a jar of almonds, a beer for him, and a bottled tea for her.

            “Well now. That's some good thinkin’! Happy I picked th’smart girl!” he grinned. Having sat the snacks down, she curled up along his good side.

            “Great minds think alike,” she responded. Her hands wrapped around one of the apples in her lap, as his arm stretched around her shoulders. He absentmindedly traced his fingers along the grooves of her gauntlet. Sym quickly wove her fingers together to form a knife, and she started slicing bites off the apple. She popped one in her mouth, and offered him the second, which he delicately accepted with his teeth.

            “Did’ja have fun with the ladies last night?” he asked, and she shrugged.

            “I suppose. We went to see a film. There was a fantastic historical drama, but the group settled on some insipid romantic comedy. Hana sat with me and kept making jokes at the film’s expense, which I found far more entertaining. But we also stopped for dessert after, and that was enjoyable,” she explained. _Future date idea: dessert._ There was a bright flash, and a rather sharp crack of thunder. Sym flinched slightly.

            “Don’t like hearin’ it?” he asked. She sliced off another bite.

            “Not the sharp ones. I don't mind hearing the rumble in the distance, and rain of course, but I never liked storms on a whole. I suppose I associate the sounds with my childhood. A tin roof does little to cover you, and the sound is deafening,” she answered, and offered him another slice.

            “When did ya join Vishkar? Ya mentioned bein’ there as a kid,” he asked, hoping he could finally glean new information.

            “Oh. Um, when I was seven. I was recruited to their academy, and when I turned twenty-one, I became an official architech,” she answered, a touch of pride hid in her voice.

            “Architech, eh? That include all that fancy fightin’ and infiltratin’?”. Sym stopped mid slice.

            “I shouldn't be telling you this…” she suddenly realized.

            “Think we’ve known each other long ‘nough f’you ta tell me,” he supplied. She finished the slice, and let out a pent up breath.

            “I worked for Vishkar as both an architech, and an agent for their… business practices,” she answered, with much hesitation. He gave her a confused look, not really understanding what she was talking about.

            “I believe the phrase one would use is corporate espionage, though it was presented to me as dedication to the corporate image. Vishkar wants to make the world a better place, and I make sure nothing stands in their way to achieve that goal,” she explained.

            “That’s… somethin’, I guess. Don't know what ta make a that, really. Why’d ya’ come here, then?”. Her response sent a bit of a chill up his spine, but she was giving him answers, and he wouldn't stop.

            “I… noticed some things. Namely, their use of… violent tactics was growing more prevalent. I did not feel comfortable harming anyone over silly business numbers, and bystanders were starting to get caught in the mix as well. Winston contacted my superior, looking for funding, and offered the position as liaison to anyone who would take it. I don't think he realized I would. It took a lot of negotiating, but I was able to come here.”. He was starting to feel a knot grow in his stomach as everything pieced together. _Fuckin’ suits used her, too! Still fuckin’ are!_

            “I do not wish to be rude, but can we get off the subject? I don't want to dwell on this tonight,” she requested.

            “Yeah. Sorry. Not good date night talk, I s’pose,” he apologized, but was secretly thankful for the answers he was able to get. Sym leaned her head on his shoulder, and sat the apple and knife down on the tray.

            “You're sure Lena was finished for the night? I don't want anyone walking in on us,” she said. _Why? Not like we got our pants down._ He didn't say that, though he desperately wanted to. That, he could understand. But, what was wrong with what they were doing? Nothing! Absolutely nothing! She said it was because she didn’t want to look unprofessional, but he began to wonder if it was really just an excuse to spare his feelings.

            “I'm sure, love. Quit worryin’. She’s gotta get up early t’morrow f’that stupid mission, anyways. Prob’ly turned in early,” he said instead. His lip curled into a sneer at the thought.

            “You do not approve of the mission,”. It wasn’t a question, but rather, an observation.

            “Course not! It's a bloody Omnic! Thing all should be shot an’ melted down! Can't trust ‘em. Don't care how much they claim they got souls an’shit. They’re the reason my home was so fucked!” he grimaced. Sym stiffened under his arm, and pushed herself away so she could turn and look at him better. She sucked in a breath to steady herself.

            “I volunteered to go tomorrow…” she stated, making sure to keep her voice monotone. Her words felt like a punch to the gut, and his chest gave a sharp pang.

            “WHAT?!” he snapped. She did not flinch in the slightest. _Fucking more secrets and lies!_

            “Why?!” he snapped again, when she didn't say anything.

            “Because no one else did, and I did not want to send our team mates out with such few numbers. I have no like nor dislike of Omnics, but I will represent Overwatch with the best of my abilities,” she answered.

            “Don't go, Sym. It's a bloody fuckin’ Omnic! Ain't worth riskin’ yer head over it. Let those other three do that, if they're feelin’ keen. But not you!” he pleaded. He was slowly getting to his feet, and so was she. She put her hands on her hips.

            “Would you please keep your voice down?! This hangar echoes!” she hissed her reminder. He crossed his arms over his chest.

            “Fucking no I won't! Y’know why? Cause I don't care who hears us! You're making a goddamn mistake, an’ I don't want ta see ya get hurt!” he shouted. A fire lit behind both their eyes. It was determination, and neither were backing down.

            “It is not a mistake! It is my job! And one that I am more than capable of! It is a simple escort mission. I've done them before! Now, lower your voice!” she warned, but even hers was picking up a little.

            “Stop tellin’ me ta’ be quiet! Ya ain't goin’ an’ that’s final! I won't let ya!” he growled hoping to silence her. It didn't work.

            “I beg your pardon?! You won't let me?! You are not my superior! You are not my employer! Who are you to tell me what to do?!” Her voice and glare were downright venomous, and he tugged his hair in frustration.

            “Who am I?! I’M THE MAN THAT FUCKING LOVES YOU!” he roared, and it echoed across the hangar for entirely too long. Sym’s eyes popped open in shock, her mouth hung open, and no words came out. Junkrat gave a shudder.

            “What th’fuck am I to ya’, Satya? Just some creep yer embarrassed ta fuck?” he said, and felt a choking feeling forming in his throat. She said nothing. She was still too surprised at the outburst. She closed her mouth, and took a breath to collect her thoughts, but he turned before she could answer.

            “That’s whatta' thought…” he grimaced, walking out of the hangar.

_There. I fuckin’ said it. Fat lotta’ good it did me..._

_... fuck..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concerning Mei: Mei is, of course, Sym's neighbor on her other side. A couple days prior to, Sym discovered she sleeps with earplugs to "not have any interruptions in her sleep". In actuality, it was to deal with Zarya's loud snoring, but now she's just used to sleeping with them in. As such, she doesn't hear much from Sym and Rat (on the few nights she's even in her own room). Hana just assumes (correctly) that they go at it every night, so she wears the headphones he got her regularly, just to be safe.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sym heads to Nepal, and contends with the feelings left in the wake of the previous night. She gets some surprising advice from an unexpected source.

            “Sym love, we’re gonna’ be landing soon! You strapped in?” Lena called over the intercom from the cockpit. Sym found the nearest speaker she could, and answered back.

            “Understood. I will take my seat shortly,”. She had remained towards the back of the dropship for the duration of the ten-hour flight to Nepal. They had left at sunrise, and she decided it best to be alone with her thoughts. She was in no mood for idle chatter. She had also hoped to get some form of sleep, but that proved a rather fruitless endeavor. She was not feeling well prepared for this mission, and she prayed that it went smoothly, regardless. Had she known what useless state she was going to be in, she never would have volunteered in the first place. Of course, had she not, they wouldn't have had their fight. Or would they? _It wasn't just the mission that made him so furious. That was merely a catalyst._

            She was many things at that moment; furious, confused, hurt, and above all, heartbroken. _He did not even give me a chance to speak! He is a childish fool with an explosive temper! I told him so many times that I did not want it getting out, because it was unprofessional. They would have put a stop to it the moment it became public!_ She knew how it went. Her years at Vishkar had shown her that time and again. Stressed architechs working long hours would seek solace in the first person they laid eyes on, which was often a coworker. Fraternizing within the company, of course, was strictly forbidden.

            “They did not respect our policies, Vaswani. If they cannot do that, then there is no place for them here,” Sanjay had told her, as two more forlorn faces left the headquarters in Utopae. _Now I understand why. You can never mix business with pleasure._ She shook the memory from her head. 

            She realized she had another problem. How was she to face him in the workplace upon her return? She couldn't avoid him forever. She supposed she wouldn't have to. _He is a mercenary, and can leave when he likes. He is stubborn and bullheaded enough to leave when things don't go his way. Perhaps it is better that I wasn't able to speak last night. It saved me from being dragged down by his possessiveness._ She finished tightening her seatbelts, and rubbed her temples to hopefully ease the burning sense of frustration. _Who is he to tell me what to do?! …I can't believe I fooled myself into thinking this could have worked._ The ship began to descend. _I will put him behind me. I will not suffer this heartache further._ She was lying to herself, but at the moment, she had to focus on the mission. She willed everything to the back of her mind, forcing herself into a familiar numbness.

            Nepal was cold, and she wished more than anything that she had brought warmer clothes. The monastery they had landed at didn't have heat, either. Omnics didn't require it, and they didn't have very many human visitors. She remained within the dropship, guarding its open doors. Shivering, she stood sentry, and tried not to think about his warmth, or how empty her bed had felt the night before, or how empty it would continue to feel in the nights to come. _You are thinking about him again_. She shoved the thought back where it belonged, as Lena, Angela, and Winston came back with their charge in tow.

            Zenyatta was not what she had expected. From a visual standpoint, he appeared not much different from any of the other Shambali Omnics. His robes were perhaps a bit more faded and tattered, but beyond that, there wasn't much distinguishing him from his former brothers. He hovered past her, his hands pressed together as if in prayer. He turned, and looked to her. He raised his hand in a slight wave.

            “Greetings. I thank you for standing sentry,” he said. His voice had a computerized and metallic waver to it, but it was ultimately calming. Sym found herself waving in return, and watched as he hovered away. She strapped herself back in for take-off. Now was perhaps the most difficult part of the journey. Nepal had been a safe place for Omnics, but the flight to Numbani would be long, and there was always the threat of somebody knowing who they had aboard their ship. _Only sixteen hours to Numbani. Then, nine more home._ The flight plan was grueling, but Lena and Winston had planned to take shifts piloting, so they wouldn't need to stop for the night.

            As soon as they had reached proper altitude, Sym unbuckled herself, and went back to her place towards the back of the ship. She honestly wanted sleep, but as she stretched out across a padded bench, the dam she built in her mind crumbled. She was cold, tired, lonely, and despite her anger, she found she was still wanting to feel him wrapped up around her. She didn’t want to be mad at him. Knowing everyone was still in the cockpit, she finally indulged in letting herself cry. _Why did this have to happen?_

            “Are you in need of assistance?” Zenyatta’s metallic voice softly called. Startled, she sat upright, and tried to dry her eyes. The Omnic peacefully hovered, and she found his lack of facial expression equal parts calming and unnerving.

            “No. No, I'm fine. I'm sorry. I was… just…,” she trailed off. _Just heartbroken, because I had my first break-up last night, and I'm crying about it like a stupid child!_ The Omnic tilted his head in an almost curious manner.

            “You are troubled,” he calmly observed. _Why is he talking to me?_

            “I've seen many a troubled heart and a weary mind in my travels. Perhaps I may be of assistance?” he offered. His voice was so soothing, and had an odd warmth to it. It almost sounded sincere.

            “How could you assist me?” she asked. Zenyatta peered forward towards the front of the ship.

            “I noticed you haven't said much, nor introduced yourself. You immediately left the small group to be by yourself. I sense you are going through some form of mental struggle, yet you do not speak about it to those whom you'd consider friends. Are my observations correct?” he asked. Sym was silent for a moment, amazed at what the Omnic gleaned in such a short amount of time. When she didn't answer, he continued.

            “Is it because you worry of their judgement?”. Sym started to shake her head no, but exhaled. Yes. That always had been, and would always continue to be a problem she’d have to fight. She shook her head yes.

            “Apologies, but I do not think I can bring myself to talk,” she answered.

            “I believe the irony was unintentional, as you are speaking now,” he pointed out. _Was… Was that a joke?_ Zenyatta let out a light chuckle, as if aiding her in trying to figure him out.

            “Why do you worry of their judgement?” he asked, and before she stopped herself, the words came tumbling out.

            “I do not know, to be honest. I suppose it is because I have always aimed for perfection, but lately I have been faltering. I have made some… unwise decisions as of late. I respect them. I worry they may not respect me if I tell them,”. _Why am I saying these things?! I do not know this… machine. But, who will he tell? Why does he care?_

            “Whatever decisions you have made are yours, and yours alone. The important thing to remember is how your decisions have impacted you as a whole. Are you a better person for it?” he replied. _A better person?_

            “I had a disagreement with someone whom I deeply care for. I fear we may have severed the connection we share,” she finally said. There was so much more to it than that, but where would she even begin with this… strange entity? Zenyatta let out another chuckle.

            “Have you tried tying the ends back together? I find that often works with thread. The knot will seem ungainly at first, but in the end, one would hardly notice the flaw,”. Sym gave him a puzzled look. She wasn't sure if she followed his analogy. She would always notice a flaw. Zenyatta seemed to realize it was not a good point of reference.

            “Perhaps think of the connection not so much a thread, but as a room. Did somebody close the door?” he asked. That, she could understand.

            “We both did, and now we’re trapped on either side. I do not know which of us has the key. In all honesty, I do not even know on which side we even stand.”

            “Well, that makes the solution very simple. Try knocking,”. Sym folded her hands in her lap, and looked at her feet. _Do I even want the door open anymore?_

            “What if the door remains closed?” she hesitantly asked.

            “If it does not open, then perhaps it is time to move on. But, until then, you should at least try... You seem physically tired. Do you need help resting?”. Before she realized it, she had nodded yes. The orbs around the Omnic’s neck began to float around him, and chimed a delicate song. The melody was soothing. The world around her melted away, and she could feel her eyelids grow heavy. She lay back on the padded bench, and closed her eyes.

            “Thank you,” she whispered.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

 

            “You have my thanks…” Zenyatta called over his shoulder, and gave a wave of appreciation. Angela gave one more hug to the student that awaited their arrival. Apparently, he was somebody she personally knew. As the Ominic and his pupil passed by Sym, he turned, and looked at her.

            “Perhaps you’ll find your friend will be the first to knock. If that is the case, will you be ready to open?” he asked. The question appeared to be rhetorical, as he turned and left the back of the dropship. _I do not know, but at least now,_ _our mission is complete. It is time to head home._

            With the hardest part of the journey completed, the small crew took a more leisurely pace back to Gibraltar. Once reaching the proper altitude, Lena even put on the autopilot so they all could unwind with conversation. Angela had just brewed a pot of tea in the galley, and had invited them all in to enjoy some. Sym still wasn’t in the mood to talk, but she would gladly listen, and tea was always welcome.

            “Glad that’s over. Going to have to deal with all the sour faces when we get back, though,” Lena started, as she added a touch of milk to her cup.

            “Let them be sour. They didn't have to join us,” Angela snipped back.

            “Seemed to cause an awful row between Mei and Zarya. Mei was considering joining us, but I guess Zarya talked her out of it. Heard yelling coming from the hangar the night before we left.” Lena replied. Sym hid behind her own cup. _I'm glad she didn't recognize the voices or words spoken._

            “What was her reason for not wanting Mei to go?” Angela asked.

            “Didn’t really get the details. Probably worried she’d get hurt or something. They make a good couple, but sometimes Zarya gets a little overprotective,” Lena replied. _Couple? Well, that certainly explains the frequent sleepovers they have_. Sym had been so preoccupied with her own secret affair that she hadn't taken the time to notice the two interacting as more than just good friends. It felt weird overhearing somebody else’s secrets.

            “So, guess I was right about those two after all…” Winston called as he entered the galley. The trio cringed, realizing the gossip had been overheard by the ape. Winston merely went to a cupboard, and grabbed out a jar of peanut butter.

            “Oh, please don't say anything to ‘em!” Lena pleaded. Winston shrugged his shoulders, and let out a chuckle.

            “You think I care what all you naked apes do behind closed doors? It's stupid trying to keep that sort of thing under wraps. Causes more harm than good. Honestly, our line of work is stressful enough as is. I encourage anyone to seek comfort any way they can. Well… almost any way. I need to talk to Hana about the smoke coming from her room.” Winston explained. _I thought I recognized that aroma._

            “You do not find their behavior unprofessional?” Sym finally asked. Winston’s laugh went from a chuckle to a full belly laugh.

            “Unprofessional? Please! Last week, Reinhardt and Roadhog asked me to be the judge of their chair-flinging finals! Even convinced me to give it a shot. Still owe Torbörn an apology. My aim was off, and he may have hit a garbage can in the process,”. Winston kept chuckling at Torb’s expense. _Of course he would join! It was scientific research!_ A small smile crept over her face at the thought of Winston enjoying himself. _He must have left before I arrived._ The relatively relaxed mood was interrupted by a ping from the intercom. Lena raised an eyebrow.

            “Hmm… Athena must’a picked up an anomaly on the radar. I'll just go check.”. She left the table to head towards the cockpit, and came back a moment later.

            “Yeah, just a blip. Probably a lower-flying aircraft got too close. Already off the radar. I turned the cloaking back on, just to be safe,” she informed, Winston took control of the pilot’s seat so Lena could catch a nap. Angela distracted herself with going through the galley supplies for inventory. Sym found a book on the table about historical navel battles. It was dull as dirt, but she welcomed the distraction. She was finally starting to feel a little better about her situation. _I will try knocking. Whatever happens, happens, but I think it is worth the effort. At least I will know that I tried._

            A couple hours later, there was another ping over the intercom. It turned out to be a large migrating flock of birds. Several more hours later, there was another blip, which turned to a blaring siren. The lights flashed, and the intercom let out a horrible distress alarm.

            “EVERYONE STRAP IN! WE’VE GOT INCOMING ENEMY FIRE!” Lena screamed over the intercom. Sym and Angela scrambled to the cockpit, and hopped in the two other vacant seats, quickly trying to do up the belts. The ship lurched at the impact, sending them tumbling forward. Sym’s heart pound in terror as she quickly got back to her seat and tried to strap herself in again.

            “What’s going on?!” Angela yelled, and Winston was looking over the computer screen.

            “Somebody is tailing us!” he growled, as he raised the ship’s shields.

            “How?! We were cloaked!” Sym called.

            “I don't know! Our cloaking tech is dated. They may have found a way to bypass it!” the ape snapped. He tried bringing up a view of the enemy ship, but all they could see before them on the computer screen was an odd shimmer amongst clouds and sky.

            “Lena, turn this ship around! I'm taking these creeps out!” Winston ordered.

            “Right with ya, big guy!” she eagerly chirped, and the ship made a hard 180. Sym felt like she was glued into her seat. She could hear clattering and crashes as unsecured items were thrown about the cabin behind them.

            “Symmetra! You're closest to the communication console! I need you to contact the watchpoint!” Winston instructed. Sym quickly unbuckled, and ran to the console to her side. She strapped herself into the new seat, and brought up the communication link. Another blast rocked the ship, and she was glad she was able to get herself secure only moments before impact.

            Winston grabbed the weapon controls, and started firing back at the enemy. He missed the first few shots, but was able to successfully lock on to the seemingly invisible target. It seemed to take out their cloaking, and the enemy ship came into view. It was pitch black, and looked stealthy. _Talon?!_ She turned back towards the microphone, and switched it on.

            “Attention, Watchpoint Gibraltar! We have been met with enemy opposition!” she called. She had her finger on the mic when another blast caused her to scream. The lights flickered for a moment, and the computer screen in front of her went blank.

            “Communications are down!” she called back over her shoulder. Winston roared a string of obscenities, and continued to exchange fire. There was one more blast towards the back of the ship, which set sensors and alarms blaring. Ignoring them, Winston fired one last barrage, and the ship before them burst into flames before exploding.

            “That last shot blew a hole in the cargo hold! If we don't patch it, we’re going to go down!” Lena snapped.

            “I can patch it, but I need to get close without getting sucked out!” Sym volunteered. Winston unbuckled himself, and started climbing towards her.

            “I’ll hold on to you, and keep you planted!” he offered, and she immediately got out of her seat. The moment they left the cockpit, she could feel the rush of air as everything was slowly being sucked towards the hole in back. The pressure grew stronger, and she was fairly certain she would lose her footing soon. Winston wrapped his arm around her waist in a fierce grip, and, using his other hand, and his feet, continued to grip anything he could for balance and support. The hole slowly came into view. She watched the teapot from earlier get sucked right out. The breach was smaller than she anticipated, but she could still feasibly fit through it if the ape lost his grip on her. She tried not to think about that.

            “Don't worry about finesse! Just make it big enough and thick enough to withstand the pressure!” Winston shouted over the deafening roar of the air being sucked out. With as much concentration as she could muster, she shut out everything, and began to work. She held the wire frame of the construct, and tossed it just as it was beginning to solidify, and grow heavy. By the time it reached the hole, it was completely solid, and plugged the space perfectly. The wind instantly died down, and Winston loosened his grip on her. He carefully prodded the patch she created. It held nice and firm.

            “Excellent work! Your quick thinking has saved us!” he complimented, and she nodded a quick thank you while trying to steady her breath and pulse. Lena’s voice crackled to life over the damaged intercom.

            “ANOTHER SHIP HAS BEEN SPOTTED!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concerning the door analogy: The past few days, I've been on a bit of a Cowboy Bebop kick (huge fan. have a whole sleeve tattoo of the characters and ships). As I was listening to the movie OST, the song "Gotta Knock A Little Harder" (a personal favorite) came on, and as I once again read the lyrics, I realized "Holy crap! This song is absolutely perfect for Sym's struggle with opening up!". From now on, I will always think of it as Sym's Song, and if things had been different, it probably would have been that actual title for this fic. If you are unfamiliar with the song, I highly recommend looking it up. It's by The Seatbelts, and really, you all should look into anything by them and/or Yoko Kanno. -See you, space cowboys!


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat wallows while Sym is out on the mission, only to receive terrible news. Sym and the crew are back in more combat, and things are looking grim.

            _Good riddance f’the day, I say!_ Junkrat was curled up on the couch, feigning sleep. He heard her pad into the common room, pause, and sigh. She turned, and walked back out. Several minutes later, he heard the engines of the dropship rumble from the hangar, and take off. There. She had left to go help a bloody Omnic, just like she said she would. _Unbelievable… Didn't even listen t’me. Couldn't even tell me she didn't love me. Bloody coward!_

A few minutes after she left, he starting thinking of all the things that could go wrong with the mission. _Please be careful…_

A couple hours later, he kept replaying the argument in his head. _… I’m sorry…_ He had realized almost the second he left the hangar that he was wrong, but pride wouldn't let him turn back. Stubbornness kept him fuming the entire night, and it was the first sleepless night he’d had in a while. He had nearly forgotten how miserable the experience could be. He punched the back of the couch in frustration as he finally got up. He could hear the other teammates rising for breakfast, and he didn't want to be caught stewing alone on a sofa. He stepped in, grabbing coffee and tea. He was going to need both if he was going to survive the day.

            “Yer up early…” Hog greeted, cutting into steak and eggs. Junkrat let himself fall into the chair.

            “Never went ta’ sleep,” Junkrat corrected.

            “Date night went well, I take it?” Hog quipped. Junkrat shook his head while staring at the ceiling.

            “No… No, quite th’opposite, actually. Don't think she’ll want anythin’ t’do with me anymore. Think I fucked it up,” he answered, his voice utterly monotone.

            “She went on th’mission?” Hog guessed. Junkrat nodded.

            “Y’told ‘er it was dangerous?”. Junkrat nodded again.

            “Y’told ‘er it was a mistake?”. Another nod.

            “Y’told ‘er you wouldn’t allow ‘er t’go?”. One last nod.

            “Beginnin’ t’suspect y’were listenin’,” Junkrat finally murmured. Hog shook his head no, giving a low huff.

            “I wasn't. I just know ya well ‘nough t’know how ya might cock things up. Ain’t yer place t’tell ‘er what she can an’ can’t do. Even YOU know that!” Hog lectured. Junkrat’s face screwed up in frustration.

            “My place… like I'm some bleedin’ lap dog. I was fuckin’ good t’er, goddammit!” he growled.

            “I know ya’ were. S’why ya bein’ so shitty now? Cause’a bloody Omnics? Fuckin’ stupid reason, mate!” Hog grumbled, and took in a breath to calm himself. The conversation was temporarily interrupted when Pipsqueak sat at the table.

            “Mornin’! Had this crazy dream… Pass the sugar?… yeah, so crazy! There was a giant pizza rolling through the watchpoint… Oh, pepper, please? Right, and then Rat Boy here… Rat, you okay? … Ohmygosh! You and Sym split?!” Pipsqueak rattled, ending in a whispered shriek. She covered her mouth in surprise, and her eyes bulged. Junkrat’s sullen face quickly dropped to one of equal surprise.

            “How the hell d’ya know that?” he hissed.

            “Cause you have that ‘what’s the point of living?’ look on your face, and that's classic break-up face.” she informed. Junkrat sneered.

            “Alright, since yer the fuckin’ expert, why’d we split?” he snapped.

            “Going by how shitty you're acting now? Probably because she did something you don't like, and you acted like an asshole about it!” she snapped back. _Fuckin know-it-all!_ Junkrat shot up out of his chair, grabbed both his coffee and his tea, and stomped out of the mess hall. He decided to go straight to the only thing that might possibly burn the frustration out of his system. 

            In the armory, he scooped up his frag launcher, a few grenades, and even a few useless cherry bombs. He found the testing grounds to be pleasant, at least. The air was crisp. The sky was clear, and the grass had regrown, making the field a blank canvas. He started with the cherry bomb as a tease, and worked his way up to the big stuff. After a while, his legs grew tired, and he plopped on the grass, firing the last of his red rounds out of the launcher. The last one arced, gave a quick ring and pop, and the sound and smoke slowly disappeared. The grass underneath was scotched, and missing chunks and divots. _There. Ruined that, too. Seems it's all I'm meant for._

            “Good. Now that you got it all out of your system, mind telling me what happened?” Pipsqueak’s voice called from behind him. He looked over his shoulder. She had her hands on her hips, and she was staring him down.

            “The fuck d’you care? Placin’ more bets with Hog? Or are ya mad yer source f’entertainment has dried up?” he growled. She switched to crossing her arms.

            “I care, because you're both my friends, and I think you're good for each other. And I don't like seeing people hurt each other. So stop being a dick, and talk to me!” Pipsqueak snapped. He’d never seen her so serious before. He didn't think it was possible.

            “She went on the mission. Told her I didn't want her to. Too dangerous. Told her I wouldn't let her. She went anyways,” he summarized. He wouldn't admit the second part. That had been far too humiliating.

            “Apologize when she gets back. That was really shitty, but she’s nice enough to probably forgive you if you kiss her ass,” Pipsqueak suggested. Junkrat heaved a heavy sigh. He guess he’d have to tell her after all.

            “But wait… there's more… Told her I loved her. She don't love me back…” he added. Pipsqueak shook her head in denial.

            “Bullshit! She actually told you that?” she asked.

            “Well… No. She was just silent. Didn't say nothin’, so I left,” he admitted. Pipsqueak rubbed her face.

            “Oh my god, you're so stupid!” she muttered under her breath. Junkrat sneered some more.

            “What ya goin’ on ‘bout?!” he snapped.

            “She fucking loves you, you dick! She just doesn't know how to say it! Tell me somethin’. Who dragged your ass out of the ocean, even though you were acting shitty the day before? Hm? Who friggen’ opened herself up to you more than she ever had with anyone ever before?! Who the hell stayed with you every night while you were in recovery, and fucking makes you food, and tells me nothing but good things about you when you aren't around?! SHE FUCKING DOESNT NEED TO SAY THE WORDS BECAUSE SHE’S ALREADY TOLD YOU OVER AND OVER AGAIN!” she shouted. His mouth hung open in shock at her outburst, and then by the dawning realization. _Aw, Christ!_

            “Fuck… then why’d she wanna’ keep it secret?” he asked, feeling more forlorn, having seen the crux of his error. At this, her voice dropped back down to a normal volume. 

            “She ever talk much about Vishkar?” she asked. He shook his head no. Until last night, only in passing. What little snippets she gave him had only pieced together something dark and sinister. It made him feel uneasy.

            “Look, I got this friend who’s kinda’ … I dunno’. Anti-Vishkar. He’s told me stuff. That company is evil. They do shady shit, and say it's for the greater good, and they practically brainwash all of their employees. Like, it's crazy fucked. Got all these rules that run them through the wringer. Shit, they can’t even date anyone in the company, or else they’re fired on the spot! Basically makes it impossible for them to have any form of life outside of work. So yeah. You can blame that piece of shit company for making her afraid to admit what’s going on,” she explained. _Knew that place is garbage!_

            “… so what do I do now? Guess there's no way a salvagin’ this, is there?” he asked.

            “Don’t know. Kinda’ depends on her. Try apologizing. Kiss her ass, and pray she’s the forgiving type,” she repeated. It was all she could come up with.

            “I'm going back in. You got some time to think up a plan. They're not supposed to be back until about nine tomorrow,” she added, and waved goodbye. _Plan? Last time I had one a those, I ended up screamin’ at her, an’ breakin’ her goddamn heart. I don't think I'm good at plans._ He decided to follow her in, and ended up burrowing under the blankets in his room. _I’ll just wait here until she gets home._ That was a plan he knew he couldn't fuck up, and he stuck with it until dinner the next day, when Athena’s voice came over the intercom.

            “Attention all personnel. An emergency meeting is being called into effect. Report to the briefing room at once,”. The computerized voice was calm, but Junkrat wasn't fooled. His stomach dropped, knowing that something was wrong. He practically ran down the hall, and the briefing room, though considerably roomier without four of its usual members, still felt crowded, and full of nervous chatter. He turned to regard Hana and Hog, and both of them seemed just as worried and confused as him. When they all took their seats, Torbörn stepped forward.

            “When Winston left yesterday, he left me in charge. I've been monitoring de progress of deir mission, and it seemed t’be going smoothly. Dat was, until fifteen minutes ago. Dey managed to get all de way t’ Numbani wit’out incident, but on deir way back, well…”. Torbörn played the transmission. Sym’s voice crackled over the speakers.

            “Attention, Watchpoint Gibraltar! We have been met with enemy opposition!”. There was a loud blast, her scream, and then dead static. _Fucking… Fucking no! No!_ He would have vomited right there, had there been food in his stomach. His face went white, and he sat back in silence. _She’s dead…_

            “Do we have a location?” Zarya asked. Torb brought up a map.

            “Dis is deir projected flight path. Judging by de time, and deir progress, we assume dey were over de nort’ of Africa when dey made dis transmission,”

            “Do we know who fired at them?” Mei asked. Torb shook his head no.

            “Realistically, it's most likely Talon, but dey’ve been off de radar for months, so your guess is as good as mine,”. Junkrat sat numb and silent, staring at the map of the flight path on screen.

            “What do you suggest we do? We don't have any other aircraft. No way to get there. Do we just assume they're dead?” Jesse bluntly asked, and the crew gave a collective flinch at that prospect.

            “No! Protocol states they must be gone for twenty-four hours before ve assume zey are dead. Ve vait!” Reinhardt boomed, and he set his jaw firm in hopes to end the conversation.

            “Reinhardt is right. We wait. If any a you are spiritual types, den try prayin’…” Torb added. Junkrat left the room the moment it was deemed acceptable. He’d wait in the hangar for her to return. _She can't be dead. Please, don’t let her be dead._

_.           .           .           .           ._

 

            “That shot was too close! Our shield is gone!” Lena shouted. They had attempted to shake the second aircraft, with no success. Several shots were fired; a few of which made contact, knocking out the last bit of the shield. One more direct hit, and they were done for.

            “We need to take them out, NOW! We can't keep trying to dodge them! They're too fast and nimble!” Angela called back.

            “Agreed! Lena, spin this bin around! We’re facing them head on!” Winston roared.

            “You be nice to my baby!” Lena snapped, once again taking the ship into a hard 180. Unprepared, Sym smacked against the side of her chair. Her shoulder gave a sickening pop. _That… That’s dislocated!_ The pain was excruciating, but she supposed it wouldn't be an issue for long. There was no way they were going to survive it.

            Winston zeroed in on the target. He hit the controllers, and fired two rockets right at the ship just as the enemy did the same. Winston had been a hair quicker, and a touch better at aiming. The rockets smacked in, turning the craft into another fireball. The rockets Talon had launched, however, exploded right in front of the windshield. There was silence, and then a crack, and they could see a spider web of fractures quickly forming.

            “It's going to shatter!” Angela screamed. Sym undid her seatbelt with one hand. _Not if I have anything to say about it!_ With her good arm hanging limply at her side, she quickly held up her gauntlet. With some effort, she was able to bring up a temporary shield. She held her metal hand up, holding the shield in place behind the windshield. Several seconds later, the sound of shattered glass gave way. The windshield was gone.

            “You repaired it!” Lena beamed.

            “No. I merely bought us time. This is light that hasn't been completely hardened yet. The moment I break concentration, I will lose it, and be sucked out,” she answered. Lena and Angela looked over with grave concern.

            “Sym! How long are you able to keep this up?” Winston asked.

            “How long do we have before we reach Gibraltar?” she asked.

            “ETA is two hours, twenty minutes,” Lena rushed.

            “Two hours and twenty minutes it is, then,” she answered.

            “You can’t possibly…” Angela called, but Sym interrupted her.

            “I can and will. If you all wish to survive this, then please be silent. I need to concentrate,” she ordered. The trio exchanged glances, and Lena increased speed.

            “Let’s see if I can cut that time down for ya!” she offered in return. _I don't think it will matter. I think I'm just delaying the inevitable._

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            “She’s dead, ain’t she?” Junkrat mumbled to Hog, who had joined him in the hangar. Pipsqueak milled about, and popped up on a crate to have a seat nearby.

            “We don't know that. The ship has a good shield, and Winston is a good shot. They could have gotten out of it! Maybe just the communication system is down!” she suggested, in hopes of sounding positive. Junkrat wasn't sure if he wanted to believe her. Did he even want to get his hopes up?

            “Let’s say the worst ‘appened. She’s dead. Whatta’ we gonna’ do?” Hog asked.

            “No point in stayin’ I guess…” he mumbled.

            “Where are we goin’?” Hog prodded, and Junkrat shrugged.

            “Does it really matter?” he responded, and started to push himself up.

            “S’pose we should start packin’…” he added after pulling himself fully upright. Pipsqueak hopped off her crate, and ran in front of him.

            “No! You're going to stay here, and wait for her! You’re not giving up yet, alright?!” she snapped. Her hands were on her hips, and her feet were firmly planted. She didn't intend to budge.

            “Stop foolin’ y’self. They're dead, an’ y’know it,” Junkrat snipped.

            “We… we should still wait… just in case!” and for the first time ever, he saw tears in her eyes. He tried pushing past her, but her tiny hands whipped out, bracing against his stomach, keeping him in place.

            “Don’t be a goddamn coward!” she snapped. That sliced right through him. _I called her a coward f’leavin’. Guess I'd be one, too._ He went back to his spot on the floor, and she followed, curling up in between him and Hog. The trio waited in silence. An hour ticked by, and then another. Pipsqueak nodded off. The only sound in the hangar was Hog’s slow breaths. There was a clunking of short steps echoing closer. Torb stepped in, and spotted them.

            “Y’waitin’?” he asked. Junkrat nodded yes, and Torb pulled up a crate and sat nearby. Junkrat looked up at the large clock on the wall. It was a quarter past nine. Had things gone smoothly, they would have been home already. Torb stared at the clock, painfully watching the minutes tick by.

            “Seen a lotta folks go an’ not come back. Never gets any easier…” he mumbled, but in the empty hangar, his words echoed.

            “Why stick around, then?” Junkrat asked. Torb heaved a sigh, but smiled.

            “Cause there's always been de few times where dey did make it back. Best feelin’ in de world,” he answered, and they returned to the silence, and watching the clock. A half hour passed.

            And then they heard the sounds of the dropship’s engines! It was quiet at first. He almost didn't hear it, but Torb jumped off of his crate, and stared at the open ceiling of the hangar. Hog immediately sat up, and Pipsqueak was jostled awake in the process. Junkrat’s heart began to race.

            “I… I can’t believe it! IT’S DEM!” he joyfully crowed. He went tearing off towards the nearest intercom, and started shouting into it.

            “Everyone get in here! Dey’re home!”. The ship came into view, slowly lowering down towards the open roof. There was smoke trailing. Lots of it. As soon as the ship landed, he knew something was off. The windshield was gone. _How?! How’d they make it back?_ The rest of the crew had finally trickled in, surprised and joyous of the return. The doors of the ship hissed open, and Winston and Lena came out to cheers. Jesse ran up, scooping Lena up in a crushing bear-hug, and twirled her around. The cowboy then reached over, clapping Winston on the back.

            Junkrat didn't see Sym, though. Nor Angela. _Something’s wrong!_ He tore past Winston and Lena, and made his way onto the ship. He ran towards the cockpit, and could hear Angela’s voice.

            “Sorry, dear. This is going to hurt. Three, two, and…”. There was a loud pop, and Sym’s voice bit back a cry of pain. The sound of her voice washed over him. She was alive! She was alive, and there, and that was all that mattered. He pushed the cockpit door open, and Angela’s head whipped up.

            “What are you doing here?” she asked, genuinely surprised. Sym was curled up on the floor, shaking violently.

            “What happened?! Why’s she shaking?” he snapped, as he pushed past the doctor, and fell to his knees. It wasn't a mere tremble. It was a bone-weary shiver.

            “Sym’s in a bit of a state of shock. She’ll be alright. Now, help me fetch a stretcher.

            “….y-you're h-here…” she quietly stuttered. Ignoring Angela completely, he laid down behind her and pulled her in close. Her body shook against his.

            “Yeah. Yeah, I'm here. Christ, I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry,” he apologized. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

            “Junkrat… I need to get her out of the ship, please… Do you want to carry her for me?” Angela asked, and he thought the question was needless. Of course he fucking would! He nodded, and scooped her up. As they left the ship, he ignored the faces turning to stare at him. He was too relieved. Too happy. Torb was right. It was the best feeling in the world.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sym and Rat deal with the aftermath of their fight, and the mission. Jesse decides pancakes are in order.

            “I’m r-really c-cold…” Sym stuttered. Once in the hospital bed, she had curled up into a tight ball, and continued to shiver. Angela tucked the blanket around her.

            “It’s from the shock. Keeping that shield up as long as you did was too taxing on your system, both mentally and physically. With your permission, I'd like to give you a muscle relaxer. I also think you’d rest more easily if we removed your gauntlet,” the doctor explained. Sym shook her head no.

            “Satya, let Angela help ya’. She knows what she’s doin’… please,” Junkrat calmly pleaded. Sym’s eyes flicked over to him, and then to Angela. She gave a nod. She reached over to undo her gauntlet, but her hand shook too much.

            “Junkrat, could you please assist her?” Angela asked as she looked him over, studying him. _Why’s she lookin’ at me all funny?_ He leaned over the hospital bed, and tried to undo the complex prosthetic, not sure where to start. Sym’s hand still shook, but was able to guide him to the hidden clasps and latches. Eventually, he heard a click, and he was able to carefully pull the arm off. Angela took the gauntlet, and gently laid it on the empty bed next to them. She quickly prepared a syringe, and rolled her over so she had access to her other arm. Sym was still shaking too much for her to safely administer the relaxer.

            “Junkrat, could you hold her still? I don't want the needle to miss,” Angela requested. He placed his hands on her shoulder and forearm, and placed only enough pressure to keep her arm from jerking involuntarily. Angela quickly stuck the needle, pressing down. Within a few minutes, her body started to relax, the trembling became less violent, and seemed to calm into a slight tremor.

            “Thank you for assisting me. I think that’s all I can do for now. She needs rest, but I'm afraid so do I. Would you keep an eye on her for me? You can alert me if there's any sign of trouble,” Angela instructed. Junkrat nodded as the doctor pulled the blanket up a little higher, and smoothed Sym’s hair back.

            “You were very brave, and we’re all alive right now because of you. We’re all in your debt… Please get some sleep, okay?” she softly called to Sym. If she heard her, she didn't indicate. Angela stood back up, and dimmed the lights before leaving the med bay.

            “C-can I g-get another b-blanket? I'm s-still c-cold,” she requested.

            “Don't think that's gonna’ do much good, love. Need ta’ let it run its course,” he murmured.

            “I’m c-cold…” she repeated.

            “Do… Do ya want me ta hold ya?” he asked, testing the waters. Sym nodded. _That's what she wanted. She just couldn't bring herself ta say it._ She wiggled over to make room for him in the narrow bed. He looked at his arm and peg leg, knowing they wouldn't be too comfortable. He popped them off, and tossed them on the empty bed with her gauntlet. He climbed in, wrapping up around her. Her tremors slowly started to subside. He didn't say anything for a long while. He just held her, letting his body heat transfer to her. _This is the last time she’s gonna’ let me hold ‘er. Might as well enjoy it for as long as I can…_ He buried his nose into the top of her head, inhaling her scent for the last time. _She ain’t gonna’ take me back… but I still gotta’ apologize._

            “Swear on my life I won't ever hurt ya like that again. I’m sorry…” he said. God, there was nothing he wanted more than to just explode into a proper pile of apologies, and beg her forgiveness. But she couldn't handle that, and he knew it wouldn't help. She had nearly died, and before that, he had scared her off by screaming in her face. The damage had been done.

            “I know… I forgive you…” she whispered. He opened his eyes, staring down at her.

            “Why?” he asked.

            “… because I don't want this to be over. Not because of this. I shouldn't have kept it secret. I was worried. Worried that if anyone found out, they'd take it away from me. From us. I didn't want it to end. But… but it turns out my worries were unfounded. This place isn't Vishkar, and I am thankful for it,” she answered. The stuttering had subsided, but there was still a waver to her voice.

            “Shouldn’ta yelled at ya. Not my place ta tell ya what ta do. Just scared y’were gonna’ get hurt. Heard yer transmission, and yer scream. Thought I was gonna’ die, too. Christ, I thought I lost ya’ f’good…” He whispered against the back of her head.

            “I love ya’, Satya. Never said that ta no one b’fore. No one worth sayin’ it to. Wanted the first time I said it t’be special. But all I did was scare ya off. I'm sorry…” he once again apologized. Her hand found his, and she laced her fingers in between.

            “Then I’ll count this as the first time hearing you say it… I love you, Jamison, and that is why I forgive you,”. She shivered, but he wasn’t entirely sure it was due to the shock.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            “Okay, this is really cute, and I don't want to wake you guys up, but do you want breakfast?” Pipsqueak’s voice jostled him from sleep, and he realized he was still in the hospital bed with Sym curled up next to him. She was still sleeping. Junkrat looked over his shoulder, and he saw that both she and Hog were waiting for a response. He gave them a nod.

            “Yeah. Yeah, anythin’s fine. Bet she’ll want some tea. Bacon f’me if they got it,” he murmured, not wanting to wake her just yet. 

            “You two made up, I take it?” she asked. He nodded again.

            “Yeah. Yeah, I think we did,” he answered. Pipsqueak gave a smile.

            “Good! We’ll be back in a bit. Just wanted to check in. Make sure everything’s okay,” she replied.

            “Thanks. Think we’re good,” he said with a small smile of his own, and they left the med bay to get them some breakfast. It was relatively early, but he knew Angela would probably be in soon. Reluctantly, he shook her awake.

            “Gonna’ have’ta get up, love. Doctor’s gonna be here soon. Got breakfast comin’, too,” he said as her eyes slowly opened. She groaned.

            “Tea?” she asked. He let out a snort.

            “Wouldn’t f’get yer tea,” he responded. She slowly sat up, and rubbed her face.

            “Thank you for staying…” she said. He snorted again.

            “Where else would I be?”. The door hissed open, and Angela came in. She gave a brief look of surprise seeing the two of them in the bed together, but ended up smiling cheerfully.

            “Good morning! I hear Hana and Roadhog are getting you some breakfast,” Angela said as Junkrat awkwardly got out of the bed, and settled into the chair. She gave Sym a quick check-up, and seemed satisfied.

            “Anymore shaking?” she asked. Sym shook her head no.

            “Still feeling chills?” she continued. Sym shook her head no again.

            “Did you get some sleep?”. Sym gave a nod. Angela made a quick note on her tablet, and wrapped everything up.

            “Good. I'm still wanting you to take the rest of the day off. Tomorrow, I believe Winston wants to speak with you about ship repairs. Junkrat, I hear you're also quite mechanically inclined. Perhaps you would like to aid them?” Angela said, turning towards him. Junkrat agreed.

            “Sure. Never worked on aircraft b’fore. S’pose I could pop down in a tick, an’ give it a look,” he said, rubbing his chin as he tried to plan his day.

            “Oh, no. Tomorrow. Winston says everyone’s to take the day off, actually. He thinks everyone needs the day to blow off some stress. Personally, I am inclined to agree with him,” she said. He was actually rather thankful for the day off. He really didn't want to leave Sym’s side so soon. Angela finished up the last of her notes, and told Sym she could stay in the med bay for as long as she needed before she left the room herself. Junkrat scooted himself over the other bed to grab his arm.

            “You are leaving?” she asked.

            “What? No! I was just gonna pop m’arm an’ leg on, an’ stay in the chair. Thought ya might like more room f’breakfast,” he explained.

            “… I’m still cold…” she lied, and he snickered.

            “Alright, now yer just milkin’ it!” he joked. Sym gave a slight lopsided smile.

            “Perhaps, but it doesn't change the fact that I want you to stay here,” she said, patting the bed.

            “Can’t say no t’you, gorgeous,”. After popping his arm and leg on, he shifted behind her, and she nestled between his legs, leaning back against him. Pipsqueak and Hog came back in a few minutes later, carefully balancing trays.

            “Aw gross! They’re bein’ all cute!” Hana sassed.

            “Christ, I could puke,” Hog also sassed.

            “Fuckin’ deal with’it!” Junkrat sassed in kind.

            “I am going to need tea first if I am to participate in this banter,” Sym coolly reminded.

            “Pancakes?” she asked, as the trays were placed down. Her voice was more curious than anything.

            “Yeah, sorry about that. Jesse was in an extra good mood about you guys getting back safe, so he wanted to celebrate. He said it’s ‘Flapjack Friday’. Tried telling him it was only Tuesday, but he said he'd bump it up for special occasions,” Hana explained. Sym’s had strawberries mixed in. The sight of it triggered a flare of jealousy.  _What’s he about?! Gonna’ stomp his foot, next time I see him!_ Hana handed Junkrat his tray. Jesse had filled his batter with chocolate chips. The jealousy immediately dissipated.  _Aw, y’now, I always liked that stupid git!_

            “Oh! Hey, Sym? Want your arm back?” Hana asked, carefully picking up the gauntlet. Sym looked down, having suddenly realized she had been without it.

            “No thank you. I think I've had my fill of that for a little while,” she answered.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            The team had decided that Flapjack Friday (or rather, Tuesday) was not enough to properly celebrate their survival and that a proper party was in order. The kitchen drones had been shoved aside, and while most of them set to work cooking or cleaning, Hana and Hog had been sent out into town to pick up some more supplies. With everyone in either the kitchens or the mess hall, the place seemed downright empty. Sym and Rat had remained in the med bay until nearly lunch.

            “Jamison, I will not have sex in a hospital bed!” Sym quietly reprimanded.

            “What iffa’ throw on a sexy nurse costume? Give ya a full check-up?” he teased, kissing her neck.

            “I will not make Angela suffer washing our sex-stained sheets…” Sym replied, her face turning red.

            “How’za ‘bout yer room, then? Wouldn't mind a change in scenery, t’be honest. Plus, yer bed is bigger,” he suggested. Sym paused for a moment.

            “… I don’t think I'm ready for that just yet,” she quietly admitted. She wished she didn't have to admit it. She had forgiven him. Really, she did, but the last forty-eight hours had been more than she could mentally handle. His face seemed crestfallen.

            “Yeah. Sorry. Prob’ly too soon, right?” he dejectedly replied. _He thinks it's because I'm still upset with him._ She stroked the side of his face.

            “I will not lie to you. Saturday night still lays fresh in my mind, but mostly, it's the flight back that lingers. Every time I close my eyes, I feel like I'm still standing behind my shield, worried I'll lose concentration at any moment. I spent two hours staring at my own death, as well as the deaths of my friends…” she explained. An involuntary tremor ran up her spine, and she looked over at her gauntlet still laying on the bed. He started massaging her tensed neck and shoulder.

            “Y’were really brave, love. Proud a’ya.” he whispered, as he buried his face in her hair.

            “Thank you. I do wish to get out of this bed, though. I think a hot shower would do wonders,”.

            “Want me t’join ya?” he offered.

            “Jamison, I appreciate your ceaseless appetite… But I…” she started.

            “Oh! Nonono! I meant, just… fuck. I just don't want t’let ya outta my sight t’day. Just worried I won't see ya again. I know it's stupid, but…” he cut in, but trailed off. Sym turned, and kissed his chin.

            “I'm not going anywhere, but you may join me, if you wish,”. Her answer seemed to please him. He crawled out of bed, scooped up her gauntlet, and helped her out as well. They made a stop by her bedroom, so she could fetch a change of clothes. He tried convincing her that her purple dress was perfectly acceptable daywear. She opted for her old running shorts and top.

            “Okay. No dress t’day… but what about t’morrow?” he joked. Sym gave a slight chuckle, and her heart felt just a touch lighter. As he collected the items she chose, he started to grab the gauntlet again. She eyed the prosthetic.

            “No. Leave that behind, please. I would like to leave it off for the rest of the day,”. She couldn't quite place it. Usually, she felt vulnerable without her gauntlet. It wasn't just that it provided her with an appendage. It was the source of her hard light, and without it, she often felt she had no purpose. _Without it, what am I? But… I am still so tired._ Junkrat merely put it back down on the bed without comment, but she noticed him look her over when he stood back up. He smiled a bit after.

            The showers were empty, and she was thankful for it. Though she knew it was time to stop keeping things secret, the showers were not where she wanted to be found out. She stepped in, and started pulling off her clothes. She heard him on the other side of the curtain placing her fresh clothes down. The towels were hung on a hook. Sym couldn't quite get her uniform off one-handed.

            “Jaime, could you please help me? I'm a little stuck,” she sheepishly asked. He pulled the curtain back, stepping into the stall. Silently, he helped tug her clothes off, and tossed them behind him.

            “Need anything else?” he asked, while handing her one of her plastic caddies. It was casual sort of question, as if the situation were nothing out of the ordinary. _Why is this suddenly weird?_ It wasn't the first time he'd seen her nude, nor lacking her gauntlet. Why did she suddenly feel so shy? Why did the moment seem so much more intimate?

            “Will you join me? I can't…” she started, but her words died in her throat.

            “A’course,” he answered. She watched him pull off his shirt, and step back behind the curtain for a moment as he removed the rest of his clothes, along with his prosthetics. They hit the floor with a loud clatter as she turned the water on. She fiddled with the knobs until she got it to a temperature she liked, and stood underneath the stream. The water sluiced over her, and her hair bargain to stick to her neck and back. The curtain pulled back, and she turned around to see him bracing himself against the grip bar on the wall. He was naked, of course. She knew he would be, and yet, it still took her by surprise. He hopped over, and sat himself down on the bench in front of her. He leaned against the back wall, and closed his eyes. The water ran down him, too, soaking his hair, and running down his chest.

            “Awful quiet there, gorgeous. What’s eatin’ ya?” he asked, keeping his eyes closed. He seemed to actually be relaxed. Sym sat on the bench next to him, and grabbed a bar of soap out of her caddy. She began to massage it along her neck and shoulders.

            “Nothing, actually. Just getting used to this sort of thing being… normal,” she tried explaining. He smirked.

            “Now that’s a first! Never been normal b’fore,”. She could feel the suds slide down her chest.

            “When you first started here, did you ever think something like this would ever happen?” she asked, her own eyes closed.

            “Ah. No. Not really. I can tell ya one thing, though. Had I known, woulda’ got my ass here a lot sooner. Oh, probably woulda’ learned how ta swim first, too,” he answered, sneaking a bit of a laugh towards the end. She rubbed the bar across her stomach and lower back, and then finished with a quick rub down of her legs. The shower was meant more for relaxing rather than cleanliness, and she wasn't too worried about doing such a thorough job. He brought his hand up, and started rubbing her shoulder absentmindedly.

            “That feels lovely…” she purred, feeling the knots slowly easing. She leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder.

            “Anytime, love,”. She lost herself in the memory of the morning after their first mission together. Even then, he had helped her, and stayed by her side, as if he knew that one day she’d need each him again. After spending nearly a half hour, under the water, Sym finally deemed herself relaxed enough to leave. They dried off, and whiled away the afternoon in her bedroom. She read while he sketched, and she was amazed by how utterly calm he was. Bouncing knee and pencil-chewing aside, he was relatively still. Even those small traits of him were no longer bothersome. They were just a part of him, and she found them actually endearing. Eventually, there was a knock on her door.

            “Hey Sym! We got dinner just about ready. You two coming down, or what?” Hana asked.

            “Oh! Of course. We’ll be down shortly,” she answered. _So, they really were all set on having a party? I suppose they won't mind my casual clothes. I think saving three members and most of the ship earns me a pass on proper dress today._ The pair left towards the mess hall, hand in hand. Just outside the entrance, however, he let go. It was subtle at first. The motion was one born out of repetition from trying to not get caught. She abruptly stopped, and so did he. He turned back to look at her.

            “No. We’ll have no more of that,” she stated. Satya laced her fingers with Jamison’s, and walked alongside him into the mess hall.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satya and Jamison reveal their relationship to the team, but that is not the only secret that is revealed at dinner.

            Dinner with the team, at first, was an uncomfortable experience for Sym. She had grabbed his hand, and walked into the mess hall. She promised herself she wouldn't let their stares bother her. She’d simply ignore the chatter under their breaths. They were adults, and there was no reason why she should have to hide this part of herself. And yet, it still managed get under her skin.

            The first person to notice was Angela, who merely smiled, and acted as though nothing was out of the ordinary. _She saw us in bed together, though she probably pieced it together last night when we landed._ They passed by Jesse, who did an actual double-take, but he still tipped his hat her way. Torb squinted for a moment, and came over to greet Sym. 

            “Heard ye kept dat scrap bin in da air fer two hours! Guess dat fancy tech a’yers comes in handy now and again!” he teased. He scowled a bit at Junkrat, though, and she didn't understand why. _Did he figure it out prior to? He is rather observant when he wants to be._ Things really didn't get awkward until they passed by Lena, Zarya, and Mei, who all gave waves in greeting. There was a moment where all three sets of eyes widened a bit in surprise.

            “Well, that explains the knockin’ sound!” Lena muttered under her breath after they passed, and the trio snickered quietly. Sym’s face grew red from embarrassment. _This… this might have been a mistake._ He squeezed her hand, and she looked over at him.

            “Ignore ‘em,” he whispered. She wasn't mad at them. She knew it was merely a joke, but it still struck a nerve. Winston and Reinhardt looked up from their discussion, and while Winston seemed indifferent, Reinhardt appeared to be rather puzzled. He looked from their clasped hands, to Junkrat, to Roadhog, and then back. _What was that all about?_  

            Having finally spotted them, Hana waved a greeting, and when she saw them holding hands, she gave a beaming smile of excitement. She waved them over to her table, where Roadhog quietly sat reading the last of The Highwayman’s Brother. He looked up from the book, gave a small nod, and then went back to his reading. Sym wouldn't interrupt him when he was so close to finishing.

            “Aw, I’m glad you came down, Sym. Thought you might need more quiet time first. I was actually going to try and find you to see if you wanted me to fix you a plate or something. Still want me to?” Hana offered. Sym’s gauntlet still sat back in the room, and balancing a plate one-handed might have been a bit cumbersome.

            “Oh, yes, I would appreciate that, Hana. Thank you. What exactly is available today? I heard it has been quite the team effort in the kitchens,” she commented, accepting her friend’s offer. Hana ran down the list of the mountain of food that everyone whipped up. She felt a little pang of regret that she couldn't have been there to witness the comradery.

            “Goodness, that is quite the spread. Anything would be fine, I suppose… but I would definitely prefer a slice of Angela’s chocolate torte, if that is alright,” she said, feeling overwhelmed by the selection. Junkrat held his finger up to gain Hana’s attention.

            “And I’ll take a bitta’ that fish stew, some’a whatever th’hell cowboy casserole is, an’…” he started ordering, but Hana interrupted him.

            “No way, lazybones! I already brought you breakfast. You got to spend the whole day snuggling up with your girlfriend! Get off your lazy ass and get it yourself!” she snipped, and stuck her tongue out at him. He stuck his tongue back out at her in return, but ultimately got out of his seat and followed behind her. Sym was suddenly very appreciative of Roadhog’s silence. _Girlfriend? I suppose that is the acceptable term to use, though I have never been referred to it before._ Hog finished the last page, closed the book, and slid it over to Sym.

            “… So… Done hidin’ it?” he observed, keeping his voice low. Sym slid the book a little closer to her, so she wouldn't forget to take it back with her later. She didn't look up from the table.

            “Yes. It seems rather silly to pretend like nothing is going on between us. It was only a matter of time before everyone pieced it together, anyways. I still appreciate your discretion, of course,” she answered. Hog pushed his mask up, grabbed the glass of water in front of him, and drained it one large gulp before setting it back down.

            “Heard he was bein’ a fuckin’ knob to ya’ b’fore y’left. Pipsqueak gave ‘im a proper tongue-lashin’ for it. He’s stubborn as fuck, but knows when he’s pushed it too far. Probably woulda’ ‘pologized after ya got back, regardless,” Hog explained.

            “Why are you telling me this?” she asked, both surprised at his statement, but also genuinely curious.

            “Yer good to ‘im. It’s nice. I know he wants t’be good t’ya, too. It's new to ‘im, though. He’s bound t’fuck it up from time t’time. There’s one thing y’should know ‘bout Jaime, though. When he makes a mistake, he makes damn sure he never does it again,” Hog answered. His use of Junkrat’s real name added a bit of heaviness to the statement.

            “You are a good friend to him. He is lucky to have you,” Sym stated after several moments of quiet observation. Hog gave a rumbling chuckle.

            “Ain’t that good a friend. Still makin’ ‘im pay me f’my bodyguard service,”.  Sym rolled her eyes. _I am sure that is a well-deserved fee, considering._ Their private conversation ended with the return of Hana and Junkrat.

            “What on earth is that?” Sym asked, pointing to a pile of what was supposed to be food on Junkrat’s plate. The other items, she could identify, but the square slice of congealed… stuff seemed to look rather questionable.

            “This, accordin’ ta Jesse, is a McCree tradition. Cowboy casserole. He wouldn't tell me what's in it, though. Kinda’ scared, t’be honest,” Junkrat answered, poking at the pile with his fork, and raised an eyebrow at the spongy texture.

            “I’ve always thought of you as rather fearless…” Sym quietly teased. Rising to her bait, he sliced off a corner with the side of his fork, and popped the bite into his mouth. He immediately pulled a face, and choked the bite down.

            “I’m thinkin’ he should stick t’pancakes…” was Junkrat’s culinary critique. Hana started giggling, and held up her phone. She had snapped a picture right at the moment where the flavor had settled in.

            “He made it once before. I wasn’t going to say anything. Didn't want to spoil the photo op,” Hana explained. 

            “You little shit! Ya kept tellin’ me it tastes better than it looks!”

            Dinner was rather boisterous as everyone seemed to carry conversations across several tables. No one seemed to be able to sit still, and most of the meal was consumed standing or walking around. At one point, Reinhardt came over to their table, where he proceeded to look over the trio of Junkrat, Hog, and Sym.

            “I’m sorry, Roadhog. I didn't realize zat you two had separated. It is good of you two to remain friends, zough. I hope your heart isn't too broken,” the old man sympathized, placing a heavy hand on Roadhog’s shoulder. Roadhog simply stared at Reinhardt.

            “Th’fuck ya talkin’ bout?” Hog said, utterly perplexed. Junkrat started laughing, and buried his face in his palm. He turned to regard Reinhardt.

            “Oh fuck, that’s right. Sorry mate, never told ya, but I think ya misunderstood,” he started, and thumbed between him and Hog, “We ain’t an item. We ain’t gay…”.

            “Speak fer y’self, Rat…” Hog interrupted. Junkrat’s head whipped around in absolute confusion and surprise.

            “Really?” he finally asked. Even Sym had been caught off guard. _How… How have they been working together for so long without him realizing?_

            “Yeah. Gonna’ be a problem?” he rumbled. Junkrat shrugged his shoulders.

            “Why would it be?” It seemed to be answer enough. Reinhardt, feeling awkward and out of place suddenly retreated from the table without further comment.

            “Rat, you seriously didn't know?” Hana squeaked.

            “He never told me!” he snapped.

            “Yer an ass…” Hog grumbled, but ended with a laugh.

            “Ya never told me!” he snapped again. Sym watched the scene unfold in silence.

            “Not the kinda’ thing ya wanna go tellin’ people in Junkertown. ‘Sides, thought ya’d figure it out ‘ventually. Didn't realize how dense ya were. …” he slowly answered. 

            “Yeah, sometimes I surprise m’self on that one. Shoulda’ told me sooner though, mate. Now I feel like a tit cause a what I did at Guys Night. Why ya’ tellin’ me now?” he asked, having finally adjusted to the news. Hog turned, looking at Sym for a moment.

            “Guess I was a bit inspired,”.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            After dinner finished up, the crew decided to continue to unwind in the common room with poker, darts, and pool. Sym wasn't feeling too social, and retreated to her bedroom. He waited a little while before quietly slipping out, hoping no one would notice or say anything. She had made the decision to stop keeping things secret, but he didn't exactly want to announce to the world where he was going. The last thing he wanted was to turn it all into a big joke.

            She, of course, welcomed him into her bedroom. She had already changed into her robe, and was getting ready to settle in for the night. He had spent the whole day doing nothing, and as such, had energy to burn. She seemed to notice as he sat at her desk, and bounced his knee incessantly. After a while, she looked up from the book she was reading.

            “I am sorry if you are feeling bored. You do not have to stay here tonight, if you’d prefer to stay up later,” she offered.

            “No. No, I wanna stay. Just… Don’t think I'm gonna sleep much. Feelin’ antsy,” he admitted.

            “You're welcome to borrow a book, if you'd like…” she said, waving her hand towards the shelf.

            “Don’t think I can concentrate on that right now,” he replied. She placed a bookmark in between the pages, and closed her book. She sat it on her nightstand, and flicked the lamp on before getting up to turn off the overhead light. Taking his hand in hers, she led him to the bed, where she gently pushed him down. He sat on the edge, confused.

            “Would you like some help falling asleep?” she asked. There was no indication of what she had in mind. He raised a curious eyebrow.

            “Depends?”. His answer only caused Sym to smirk. _What’s goin’ on in that brain a hers?_

            “Take your boot off,” she instructed. He complied, though he still felt rather confused.

            “Now your shirt,” she added. _Is this? Is she?…_ He pulled his shirt off, and tossed it on the floor. It was then he noticed the playful glimmer in her eye, and he knew where things were heading.

            “Thought y’said ya weren’t up f’that t’day,” he reminded.

            “Yes. Earlier, that was true. But I also have energy to burn, and it's been far too many days without for my liking. And when I saw you in the shower, it may have put some ideas in my head. You took care of me all day. Now let me return the favor,” she answered. _Energy t’burn, eh? Well alright then!_

            “Hmm… If that’s th’case, love, then let's run each otha’ ragged!” he said, revealing a wicked grin.

            “That’s the plan. Take off your prosthetics,” she ordered.

            “Iffa’ do that, won't be much good. I'll just be stuck in this bed at yer mercy,” he pointed out. Sym raised an eyebrow.

            “That's the plan…” she repeated. A tremor ran up his spine. _Oh, gotta’ feelin’ I’m gonna’ like this!_ He followed her instructions, removing his peg leg and then his arm. She carefully moved them to her desk before stepping forward.

            “Lie back, and take your pants off,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.

            “Gonna’ need help with th’second part,” he admitted. After repositioning himself on the mattress, he undid the button and zipper while she moved to the foot of the bed. She tugged at the hem, and started pulling his jeans down. He helped shimmy the black denim down until they were fully removed. He lied back, already hard. A very self-satisfied smile came across her.

            “That certainly didn't take long,” she observed.

            “Not gonna’ lie. Think it's a bit of a turn-on when yer tellin’ me what t’do…” he admitted, returning her smile with one that spelled ravenous.

            “Course, we gotta’ problem here. See, I ain't got a stitch on me, but yer all…”. His words died away as she quietly undid the belt to her robe, and slid the fabric over her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. His cock twitched eagerly in response.

            “Well now… Didn’t exactly get dessert, but I s’pose this’ll do!” he teased, as his eyes ran down the length of her. _Fuckin Christ! The things I wanna’ do t’you!_ Wordlessly, she climbed over the foot of the bed, and crawled over him until she perched on top of his lap. Her plump backside pressed firmly against his hard cock, and a twinge coursed through his body. _Fuckin Christ! The things I want’cha ta do t’me!_

            She leaned forward. Her eyes were molten gold. She bit her bottom lip, enticingly. He reached his hand up to cup the side of her face, but she snatched his wrist, and pinned it firmly against the mattress. He knew he could easily break her grip, but he wanted to see what she was planning to do. She continued to lean forward, and pressed her lips to his. 

            The kiss started off soft at first; agonizingly so. It was almost chaste, until she ran her tongue along his bottom lip. He instinctively parted, giving her access, and she ran her tongue along his. The kiss deepened, and grew intense. He tried bringing his hand back up, but she kept it pinned down. Her breasts grazed his chest and shoulders, and he could already feel a warmth building between her legs. _Oh my god, she might actually make me come right here if she keeps this up!_ Her grip finally loosened as she pulled away from the kiss, and sat back up. Her lips were swollen, and the image of them wrapped around his cock came to mind. He wouldn't be opposed to that, either.

            “You may use your hand as you see fit, but not here,” she said, pointing between her legs.

            “But that's th’best part!” he jokingly whined,

            “If you do not comply, I may have to consider restraining you in the future,” she warned.

            “Yes please!” he answered, letting the words tumble out before he could stop them. She raised both eyebrows in response, and gave pause for some serious thought. The look on her face said she was actually considering it. _You can fuckin’ lash m’down an’ have yer way with me. I will gladly die a happy man!_ He ran his hand along the smooth skin of her side, running the pad of his thumb over one of her erect nipples, and then down to settle over her hip. His thumb grazed her hipbone, and he squeezed the soft flesh of her lower back. He felt a dimple at the base of her spine, and circled it with his index finger. She let out a ticklish giggle before arching her back, and popping upward on her knees. He sat up in return, and started placing kisses on her navel, breathing hot air on belly, and watching her skin turn to goose flesh in response. His hand moved forward, coming to the juncture between her thighs. He could feel the heat coming from the thick patch of black hair. _Oh, she’s so ready!_ She placed her hand on his shoulder, and shoved him back down.

            “I told you, not there! If you cannot follow rules, then I will have to punish you!” she quietly warned.

            “Why d’ya think I did it in th’first place?” he teased, genuinely curious as to what she considered punishment.

            “Now you may only watch!” she said. _Watch?!_ She took her hand and ran it over her shoulder, down to cup her own breast, and slowly lower back towards where he had been only a moment ago. She paused a moment, and locked eyes with him as she slowly slid one of her fingers inside. She let out a small shudder at the pleasure. Seeing her tease herself was pure agony. After a minute or so, she added a second finger… and then a third. Her eyes slowly closed as she pleasured herself on top of him.

            “That really how y’wanna finish?” he reminded, jostling her from her pleasure. Her fingers slowly retreated, and she shook her head no. He snatched her wrist, and pulled her back down. Her fingers were wet and dripping. He popped them into his mouth and gave them a suck as he ran his tongue along them. _Fuck she tastes good. Better than any fuckin’ dessert!_ His eyes were closed and he wasn't paying attention to what she was doing.

            Suddenly, she was sliding down on top of him, and the shock of her heat and wetness running down the length of his cock nearly undid him. _How th’fuck are you so tight?!_ A sigh of pleasure escaped her lips, while he hissed her name. She sat on top of him, perfectly poised, enjoying the feeling of him being inside her. After a moment, her eyes slowly opened, and she gazed at him. The heat in her eyes made him feel like he would ignite at any moment.

            “Fuck, let's just burn t’gether!” he hissed, not realizing he had actually said it out loud. It was all she needed to hear. She lost herself, and began to rock her hips up and down. It was a steady rhythm, and he thought for sure she was trying to recreate the one they had the first night. Her hand ran up the length of his chest, and her nails scored lightly over taut flesh. She leaned forward, and began to kiss his neck. Her tongue teased his earlobe, and he thought for sure he could actually hear his heart slamming in his chest. And then he felt her teeth graze his shoulder.

            “Satya, please don't stop!” he breathlessly pleaded. His own hips began to thrust upwards. His hand gripped her hip, guiding her up and down and the tips of his fingers dug into her plump backside. He buried his face into her neck, where he began to kiss, suck, and nip. He bit down on her shoulder to stifle the sounds he wanted to make. She let out a small cry, but didn't stop him. She wouldn't end the torturous pleasure. His breath began to quicken, and he could feel himself tensing up. She stopped, and slowly slid up. She placed a kiss on his nose.

            “Not so soon!” she teased, hovering over his cock. He swallowed hard, and licked his lips.

            “Yer gonna be th’death a me, y’know that, right?” he said. She kissed his forehead.

            “Perhaps. But what a way to go!” she teasingly answered, before sliding back down on top of him. _Yeah, that's how I wanna’ go! Just let ya fuck me t’death!_ They settled back into their rhythm, but he noticed she was growing a bit more aggressive as time passed. Apparently, she was starting to get close. She changed the angle of her hips, and began to grind against him. _Oh, she’s close! She’s so close!_ He felt her tighten around him, and her cry peeled out. He continued to grind against her, and he could feel a second tremor course through. Her breath came out ragged with the second wave of the climax. _Maybe a third?_ He kept grinding, hoping to bring her another release, but the wetness and heat was too much. He felt himself tighten, and then he himself found blessed release.

            “Oh ffffuck!” he cried, as poured himself into her. It felt like a goddamn shotgun blast! He could swear his ears were ringing, and there was light flashing behind his eyes. Did somebody light off a flash grenade in his brain? When his vision finally refocused, she had fallen forward. Her face was buried into his neck, and they panted together, trying to catch their breaths. He slowly stroked the back of her head, and she let out a soft sigh in response.

            “There,” her voice was breathy, and still seductive, “Did I sufficiently run you ragged?”. A strained chuckle escaped him.

            “Sheila, I'm gonna’ be amazed if I can walk t’morrow!” he joked. She laughed in return, slowly rolled off of him, and curled up against his side. They laid together in mutual silence for quite some time. He thought for sure he'd drift off after that, but his mind started to buzz again, and he looked down to see that he was once again hard. _How are ya still standin’?!_

            “Oh, for the love of…” he muttered. Satya looked down at the source of his frustration.

            “Hmmm… Seems I did not do as thorough of a job as I thought…” she said, sounding slightly disappointed. He kissed the top of her head.

            “Oh no! Take that as a compliment! I'm just back f’more, apparently,”. She patted his stomach.

            “Apologies. The want for more is there, but I do not think I could replicate my technique again,” she said. He started kissing her shoulder again, and he could see her writhe the tiniest bit. He raised a tempting eyebrow.

            “I could return th’favor, if ya’ like…” he floated the offer, not really expecting her to accept. It came as quite a shock when she did.

            “Well, if you're still not tired…” she agreed. It was all she had to say. He rolled back on top of her, and locked her in a searing kiss.

            “Fuck, why ya gotta’ be so perfect?!”.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a rough night of sleep for Junkrat, and Sym gets some less-than-stellar news. Fortunately, they have each other.

            Stress had, unfortunately, caught up with Junkrat. As always, he had simply bottled up his problems, and shoved them deep into his subconscious along with all of the other nasty memories from his past. He had been shot, and nearly died. He had to keep his relationship secret, which had been far more mentally taxing than he’d cared to admit. He fought with Sym, seemingly ending the only good thing in his life. And then she nearly died as well. His brain was a powder keg, and while she had indeed run him ragged with mind-blowing make-up sex, it was not enough to stop the match from falling in.

            The nightmare was dark and considerably more intense compared to ones in the past. The blood and the screams were amplified. The imagery before him was far more sinister, and tugged at the parts of him where his deepest fears lurked. The faces of those that had died around him stared back at him, uncaring of his pleas for mercy as they clawed at him, dragging him downward. He thrashed in his sleep, and screamed in his dream. When he no longer could, his voice died to a whimper. But, as had been the case on his first night in Gibraltar, just when he thought he couldn’t take any more of the horrors in his dreams, something cool and calming had settled him.

            “Nononono. Please, God, no…” he whimpered. A soft hand stroked the side of his face.

            “It’s just a dream, Jamison. You are here and safe,” she gently reminded him. He slowly opened his eyes. Yes, he was there. There in her bed, and safe, and despite being drenched in sweat, Sym pulled him against her cool skin. He rested his face on her chest, and he tucked his head under her chin. He could hear her heart beating, and the steady rhythm grounded him, bringing him away from the night terror. Her arm snaked around his neck, and she ran her fingers through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp.

            “M’ sorry f’wakin’ ya up,” he groggily mumbled. Her eyes were still closed, and despite being only semi-conscious, she kissed the beads of sweat off of his forehead.

            “It's alright. I’m here for you,” she gently reminded. _Here f’me? Why? Fuck, I've done some terrible shit in m’life. Don't think I deserve a woman like you._ She started to hum a soft tune. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was beautiful and calming, and he could feel his racing heart slow back down.

            “Rest, now,” she quietly murmured before she drifted back off to sleep. The room was silent, save for her heartbeat thumping in his ear. _I don’t fuckin’ deserve ya’, but Christ, I’ll love ya’ till the day I die…_ It was a long while before he was able to fall back to sleep, and even then he still tossed and turned. When her alarm went off at a quarter to six, he gave a sad whimper of protest.

            “Nooooooooo!” he whined, and swatted the clock off her nightstand with the back of his hand. It smacked into the wall with a crack before hitting the floor.

            “That had better not be broken,” she sleepily warned. He peeked over to the side of the bed, where it lay in several pieces on the carpet.

            “Fuck, I’ll get ya a new one. Go back ta sleep,” he grumbled. She did the opposite. She pulled the sheets back and climbed out of bed. She began to stretch.

            “Sun ain't even up,” he groaned.

            “I know. I like to see it rise when I run, remember?” she stated. The fog of sleep was slowly dissipating, and he actually did remember her saying that to him several months ago.

            “You can stay in bed as long as you like, but this is a rare morning where it isn't raining, so I'd like to enjoy it while I can. I will wake you when it's time for breakfast,” she calmly added.

            “Fffffine…” he mumbled. She walked over to her desk, and stared at her gauntlet for a moment. She let out a breathy sigh, and began to reattach the prosthetic before changing into her leggings and top. A moment later, her shoes were tightly laced, and the door slid closed behind her. He grabbed her pillow, and plopped it over his face to block out the incoming light. He heard her come back in a couple hours later, and she was hissing something angrily under her breath.

            “Wuz wrong?” he asked, pulling the pillow off his head. Sym held a small piece of paper in her hand, and crumpled it before tossing it in the rubbish bin in her water closet.

            “Just… Nothing. I need to make a conference call this afternoon. Winston didn't bother giving me the message until just now. He said he wanted me to have yesterday off, and to relax. I know he meant well, but I'd prefer to have a little more of a notice. And of course, there will be a debriefing after breakfast,” she explained. She had already showered, and was changing into a rust colored blouse and black slacks. She then proceeded to pull her hair up into a tidy bun. He rubbed his eyes before sitting up.

            “Did you get any more sleep?” she finally asked, her voice dropping back to one of concern. He yawned, and blinked slowly.

            “Yeah. A bit, anyways. Sorry ‘bout that, by th’way. Been a while. Didn't see it comin’. Woulda’ stayed in my room had I known,” he said. She handed him his clothes, and he quickly pulled them on.

            “It's alright. I actually prefer you staying here, to be honest. At least I know you're not staying up late… What did you dream of?” she finally asked, as she handed him his arm. He paused in the process of latching it back on.

            “Just… ugly things. Bad memories. Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he rushed. She rubbed his head a bit, and handed him his peg leg.

            “I think I am entitled to worry, but if you do not wish to talk, I understand. Let's get something to eat. I feel that will help you tremendously,” she replied, offering a hand to help him out of bed. He took it, and pulled himself up. She hesitated a moment, and then pulled him in, wrapping her arms around his waist. Her words from last night echoed in his head. “ _You took care of me… Now let me return the favor,”._ She had meant something considerably different at the time, but the sentiment had far extended beyond sexual gratification. He bent down and kissed the top of her head, noticing the smashed clock at her feet.

            “….sorry ‘bout the alarm clock…” he sheepishly murmured. Normally, he wouldn't give two shits about something like that, but it was something that belonged to her, and he had destroyed it. It made him feel incredibly guilty. She looked at the broken bits on the floor.

            “It is only a clock. You can buy me a new one. Perhaps Friday?” she offered. He pulled back to look at her.

            “Like… like a date?” he hesitantly asked. She nodded.

            “Yes. I would very much like to reattempt it. I would like to try and get it right, this time,” she softly smiled. He kissed her again in agreement. _You're too damn good t’me, and I ain’t ever gonna’ say no t’you._ He picked up the broken pieces, and tossed them into the rubbish bin while she pulled the sheets off the bed to later wash, and then they head out to breakfast.

            The meal was quiet, and apart from a couple of glances from other team members, it felt as if nothing were out of place. She sipped her tea while flicking through her tablet at notes and schematics. He chatted with (or rather, at) Hog, and kept trying to sneak the muffin off of Hana’s plate when she wasn't looking. And, of course, Sym was right about eating something. The food helped him a great deal. The dark flashes from his nightmares had subsided for the day, leaving him in a much more positive mindset. Who would have thought that regular meals and a fairly adequate amount of sleep could make a person feel actually human?

            The debriefing, however, didn't seem to help Sym very much. He watched from the back, and noticed her face stiffen during the official recounting of what had happened. He regretted not sitting next to her, but he saw Angela squeeze her shoulder, and he was thankful for the presence of a friend.

            “I’m having the build team take a look at the ship today to see how long repairs will take. As of right now, we will be temporarily out of commission,” Winston informed.

            “Do we have confirmation that it was actually Talon that went after you?” Jesse cut in. The cowboy may have been oblivious to some of the goings-on around the watchpoint, but he was rather sharp when it came to mission details.

            “As a matter of fact, yes. I contacted Fareeha again, and she said that, while Talon has been laying low since our Egypt mission, they seem to have become more active within the past month. As for why they attacked us, it seems to be nothing more than a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. We may very well have inadvertently prevented a possible terror attack when we took out their ships. Given the increase of their presence, Helix has decided to work more directly with us. On a positive note, that means a familiar face will be joining our team next month. I was able to speak to Amari, and she has accepted the Recall,” Winston explained. The last bit of news made the older members excited, but Junkrat was too focused on the prospect of fighting Talon again.

            “Continuing: We have another mission lined up for next Saturday in Rio de Janeiro. I was contacted by a musician regarding extra security for the last stop of his tour,” Winston started. He brought up an image of man with thick dreadlocks, and a rather infectious smile.

            “Oh! Lucio got back to you? That's awesome! His latest album is really…” Hana started, but the look Winston gave her silenced her.

            “I know you two are friends, but please allow me to finish… Yes, it is in fact Lucio Correia dos Santos. He’s been on tour for quite some time, raising funds for his own personal charity to help the victims of the Rio favela incident. Next week will be the last concert of the tour, and he believes there's a chance for protesters to show up. It's not so much that he's worried about them, but rather police involvement. He hoped we’d be able to keep an eye on things, and prevent any sort of physical altercations from breaking out. Nothing heavy. He'd prefer us to not resort to physical means, if at all possible,” the ape continued.

            “How are we to get to Rio if the ship is in need of repair?” Zarya cut in. It was a very valid point, but before Winston could answer, Hana interrupted again.

            “If we’re not bringing heavy equipment, we could always take my private jet!” she offered. Several of the other team members whipped around to look at her.

            “You got a jet?!” Jesse asked, his face incredulous.

            “There are perks to being a celeb,” she replied, with an impish wink.

            “Well, that is quite the offer. Thank you, Hana. We might have to take you up on that, though I still want to see what the build team has to say regarding repairs,” Winston responded. He wrapped up the debriefing with a few minor details before dismissing them for the day. Junkrat was about to head to the hangar when he noticed the look on Sym’s face. Or rather, the lack of one. Her face was stoic. Her eyes seemed to be glazed over holding no sign of emotion, though her good hand was curled into the tightest fist he thought possible. Something was gnawing at her. He waited for her to catch up with him, and he carefully placed a hand on her shoulder.

            “What’s wrong?” he asked under his breath. She didn't turn to look at him.

            “Much. I must speak to Winston first, and then I will tell you,” she quietly responded. She stepped away from him, and followed after the ape towards his office.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            “I do not wish to tell you how to do your job, Winston, but I believe you have made a serious error taking on this mission,” Sym began. She sat in front of Winston’s desk, legs crossed, and hands resting on her knee. She kept her back rigid in an effort to hide her feelings of agitation.

            “Yes, I figured you'd take issue with this,” Winston huffed.

            “You realize what that man has done? What he stands for?” she began. Winston dropped his brow.

            “Yes. He found peaceful means to solve the issue of corporate over-involvement, and is currently promoting a very worthy cause,” he retorted. She bristled at that. Though she had her own qualms with Vishkar, she knew deep down that the corporation had done so much good that so few understood. Had the Mayor of Rio accepted Vishkar’s offer in the beginning, the favelas wouldn't have to have been so violently destroyed. Had the people just accepted their help, none of the laws and curfews would have needed to be put in place. It was for their own good, but Lucio never understood that. At least, that was how Sanjay had explained it.

            “Is he aware that I am to be part of this mission?” she asked. Winston sighed.

            “No, and I’d rather you didn't attend, actually,” he answered. That response cut her. She bit the side of her cheek to keep herself from frowning.

            “Is he aware of who your primary financial support is?” she asked. Winston scowled.

            “No. I did not find sharing that information to be relevant for a single mission. He doesn't need to know… and neither does Vishkar,” he responded. Sym’s eyes narrowed to slits.

            “You ask me to lie to my employer?” she hissed.

            “I ask you to honor your confidentiality agreement, and not report the details of this mission. Symmetra… I know you feel an allegiance to Vishkar, but I had hoped that after these months, you'd feel some form of that for this team. You saved Angela, Lena, and myself the other day. I am incredibly grateful for what you have brought to our team, but if you're not capable of working for two employers… I’d be willing to sever your contract early,” Winston offered. It was the wrong thing to say. She quickly stood up, slapping her hands on his desk. Winston did not flinch. She ground her teeth before standing upright, and straitened the hem of her blouse, regaining her composure.

            “I do not appreciate being placed in the middle of this. I will say nothing, but if the question arises, I am contractually obligated to report this information. Should Vishkar find out, they could very well pull their funding. I certainly hope for your sake that this mission is worth it,” she snipped. She didn't wait for dismissal. She turned on her heel, and left the office without saying another word.

            _How dare he?! How dare he put me in such a place? And after I volunteered to go to Nepal when no one else would!_ Sym continued to stew in anger, clenching her fists and biting the sides of her cheeks. She hoped the walk to the hangar would help clear her head, but the sight of the damaged dropship only refueled her frustration. _I nearly died getting them all to safety. I heard no complaints then when Vishkar stepped in to keep the ship in the air. No complaints of Vishkar’s money, or technology when it comes to their aid!_

            “Oh, there you are, love! I was just showin’ Torb the damage to the windshield. You mind joinin’ us?” Lena’s chipper voice cut through the black cloud forming in her mind. She gave a curt nod, and stepped into the ship, heading towards the cockpit. The gaping emptiness where the windshield once stood sent another shudder down her spine. She wished she had better mentally prepared herself to look back out of it. Torb clunked up next to her.

            “Yer shield held up well enough. Any way you can make it permanent?” he asked. Sym quietly shook her head no.

            “Hard light is resilient, but in order for it to be transparent, it would become far too damage-prone. I would not be able to create something durable enough for flight. The parts required for the damage in the cargo hold, however, could easily be replicated,” she answered.

            “Y’know, Winston is awful clever. Maybe the two of you could put your heads together and come up with something for the windshield!” Lena suggested. Sym grit her teeth at that, but put on another stoic face.

            “Perhaps. Let’s look at the cargo hold,” she clipped, trying to change the subject. As they head towards the back, she saw the items on the ship scattered about. Anything that hadn't been locked down or sucked out before her patch seemed to have found its way onto the floor… save for a basketball that had somehow wedged itself between a light fixture and the ceiling. The patch she had created had somehow been pried loose. The hard light had been twisted and singed, as though blown apart. _… My boyfriend’s handiwork._ She hesitantly stepped closer towards the gaping opening. _Speaking of which, where is he?_

            "Well, now here’s yer problem! Got a big ol’ hole here!” he beamed, quickly popping up through the opening. Sym gave a startled shriek, before falling back onto the floor. Torb started laughing, and Sym couldn't suppress her smirk. Though she hated being startled, Junkrat’s smile and levity were greatly appreciated.

            “Sorry, darl. Couldn’t resist!” he apologized. She chuckled before standing back up, and dusted herself off.

            “What say ya, twiggy? Damage look bad?” Torb asked, prodding the edge of the opening with his foot. Sym stepped a little closer to look down.

            “Eh, looks like it took out a bitta th’climate control, an’ ventilation. Nothin’ I can't fix… with the right parts, a’course. Communication system is down, but that shit’s outta’ my league. Maybe Sym can pull it together?” he suggested, wiping soot off his hands with a rag. It was rather comical to see him only from the shoulders up protruding through the breach. He reminded her of the antique whack-a-mole game she saw at an arcade once, many years ago.

            “I should be able to recreate the parts necessary, provided I have the proper blueprints,” she offered. Lena scratched her head.

            “Yeah, I got those. Wait a tic!” she said, heading towards the front of the ship. Torb head back out, saying he was going to grab his tools. She felt a tickle on the top of her foot, and she looked down to see Junkrat lightly grazing his fingers along the length, before circling her ankle bone.

            “I know that look. What’s eatin’ ya?” he asked. Sym let out a dejected sigh.

            “Quite a bit… can’t really talk about it here, though,” she quietly admitted. Her eyes darted towards the front of the ship, where Lena was no doubt scrambling to find the ship blueprints. Junkrat tugged at the hem of her pants to gain her attention again.

            “Later, then?” he asked. She gave a quick nod. His face of concern slowly melded to something roguish.

            “After that, need help forgettin’ it fer a’lil while?” he offered. His eyes burned holes through her, and as always, she welcomed it.

            “Certainly,” she smiled back. He pushed himself back down through the hole, but not before placing a quick kiss on the top of her foot. Lena came back a few minutes later with several thick volumes of manuals. She handed them all to Sym.

            “Sorry, love! Couldn't tell ya which one has the information you need, so I brought them all!” she apologized.

            “It appears I have my work cut out for me… I’ll get started, I suppose,”. She sat down at the galley table, cleared off the top, and began to pour through them. After several hours of concentration, she seemed to finally find the schematics she was looking for. She looked down at her watch, which had started to buzz with the alarm. _My conference call!_ She scrambled to close everything up, and ran towards the disused conference room to prepare herself for the meeting.

            She was still early, which gave her time to mentally prepare herself, and tidy her hair. As usual, Sanjay wanted it to be a video projection, and she needed to look professional. The screen in front of her lit up with a notification. **Incoming holographic transmission,** the screen read. Sym sat at the table, and waited. A moment later, Sanjay’s face appeared. He was sitting at his own desk.

            “You are not in uniform,” was his greeting.

            “Apologies at the inappropriateness of my dress. I was making repairs to our ship, and didn’t want to sully my Vishkar suit,” she started. The apology seemed to suffice. Sanjay didn't hassle her further.

            “Repairs?” he asked. Sym launched into the story of the mission, and how the dropship came under Talon fire.

            “Talon has come back out of hiding, then?” he said.

            “It appears that way. Winston has a new recruit coming in next month who will know more about it. Until then, we are out of commission until the ship is repaired,” she answered.

            “No other upcoming missions to report?” Sanjay asked. Sym’s face remained blank. _I cannot lie to them… but perhaps I can leave information out._

            “Merely another security job for a celebrity. We won't even be bringing weapons. Nothing of consequence,” she replied. Sanjay bought it, and didn't press further.

            “The reason for this meeting is to discuss the Tranquility Project. We are in need of a new overseer for the last leg of the building stages, and I was hoping to gain your input,” he stated. A couple more faces were projected in front of her, along with their names, and information.

            “I do not understand. What happened with Chirag?” she asked. She remembered the man to be quite capable, and seemed to be eager to take on the project.

            “He is no longer working for Vishkar,” was all Sanjay said in response. Sym felt a tremor course through her. There was more to it than that, but she knew she couldn't pry. Her eyes darted at the two dossiers before her.

            “I’ve worked alongside Geet before. He understands my designs fairly well. I feel he is the most qualified of the two,” she answered. Sanjay scribbled the name down on a piece of paper.

            “Geet it is, then. As always, I appreciate your input, Vaswani. Your intellect is sorely missed here,” Sanjay said, giving her a nod. The compliment did little to ease the knot forming in her stomach. He looked down at his watch.

            “It seems I must go. I have another meeting with the London office in an hour, and I need to prepare. Take care, Vaswani,” he said, and the transmission abruptly ended. Sym let out a pent-up breath. She didn't like the feeling of dread building within her. She stood up, smoothed her blouse, and stepped out of the conference room. _This does not bode well._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song she hummed was the same tune as Zenyatta's chimes from Ch. 25.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sym has to work alongside Winston, much to her dismay, but she at least has something to look forward to. She's got a date with a certain Junker!

            Symmetra was still furious long after her conference call. She had given Junkrat a summary of what had happened, and she tried to explain to him why it all made her so upset. He listened, but whether he could fully grasp the business-aspect of her woes was difficult to ascertain.

            "Sorry love. Not th'best at all this suit-talk. Just tell me who I gotta' smack!" he offered, cracking the knuckles of his good hand. She only sighed, and rubbed her temple.

            "...I wasn't bein' serious..." he added, but the grin he gave her said otherwise. Though he was clueless to the tensions involved in business, he at least was very adept at relieving her of said tensions. He proved himself over and over again to be an extensively skilled lover. He would never be the solution to her problems, but at least he could make her forget about them at night. In the mornings, she found herself reluctant to leave his arms. Friday morning was particularly difficult. She was supposed to work alongside Winston in the afternoon to devise a solution for the windshield repairs, and she didn't know how she was to face him. Sensing her stress, Junkrat rubbed her neck and shoulders, and brushed a kiss on the top of her head.

            "Why don't we just run off t'gether? Leave this place behind us. Just you an' me?" he whispered. Though the idea sounded preposterous, a small voice in her mind whispered back to her. _Why not?_ She quashed that voice almost immediately.

            "Jaime, you know I can't do that. I have faced difficulties before. I will rise above them, not run away," she answered. She didn't have to turn to know that he was smiling. She could hear it in his voice.

            "I know y'will. But if ya ever decide ya had enough, just give me th'word," he offered. His devotion was absolute, and it made her heart flutter. She let out a yawn, and peeked at the tablet on her desk. It read 7:22.

            "We need to get up. I do not wish to miss breakfast. Jesse is going to make Flap Jack Friday a permanent fixture here, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a fan of the idea," she mused, slowly pulling away from his grasp.

            It always seemed to her that the more one dreaded something, the more time seemed to drag on. Her wait for the afternoon was downright torturous. _I just want this to be done and over with!_ What would she say? What would she do? _Focus on the task at hand. Pretend nothing has gone on between you. Repairing the ship is top priority._ As Junkrat and Torb remained at the back of the ship finishing up the last of the repairs to the cargo hold, Sym poured through the manuals and schematics, waiting for Winston. _Perhaps a projection barrier. Winston has created some in the past. I could create the casings and mountings. It would be easier to repair than traditional glass, and the only way to destroy the barrier would be to damage the projectors from within the ship..._ She began sketching up prototypes on her small tablet. Having lost track of time, her concentration was finally interrupted by the soft padding of leathery feet and knuckles heading towards the cockpit.

            "I see you've already had some ideas?" Winston greeted. Sym looked up from her tablet, and sat her stylus onto the communication console. _This is business. Remain professional._

"Yes. I figured we'd be utilizing your projection barriers, and have begun to design the necessary equipment," she stated, keeping her tone cool and collected. She handed the tablet to Winston, who began to flick through her designs.

            "These are fantastic, though I worry they may be too compact for the kind of durability we're looking for," he noted.

            "Not if they're made from hard light. I took the liberty of going over your past designs. Traditional metals and plastics have their limitations. Namely, they would require a way to prevent overheating. Hard light can withstand higher temperatures, without the need of fans or coolants," she replied. Winston tapped a finger across his mouth, and then adjusted his glasses.

            "That certainly would simplify the product. Less parts to worry about repairing, too... Alright. Could you send these designs to me? I can work on the schematics, and perhaps we could create a final prototype together next week," he offered, while handing the tablet back. Sym gave a quick nod, and sent the designs on. She hoped he would leave after that, and for a moment, it appeared that was going to be the case. He had turned, and began to pad back out, but he stopped and looked back around.

            "Symmetra... I want to apologize for the other day. I hope you know it was not my intention to create a conflict of interests for you. I didn't want to put you in this precarious situation. But... the purpose of this Recall is to help people. Even those with whom we may not always agree with. Lucio has informed me that the protests in Brazil are starting to grow violent. He just wants his people to be safe. I hope you understand that's why I agreed to help him," he started. _Safe... he just wants to keep them safe? Vishkar was trying to save them from themselves. How is that any different?_ Despite the fact that Winston was probably unaware of Vishkar's intentions with the favelas, she could at least see why he took on Lucio as a client.

            "If... if you are truly trying to help people, then perhaps I can set aside my differences, and aid in this mission. Perhaps Lucio will see Vishkar in a new light..." she started, but Winston held up his hand to stop her.

            "It is noble of you to offer, but I still don't want you to attend. Not because of Lucio's possible animosity. I know that Vishkar will pull our funding if they find out. I did not want to see you lose your position with them on my account. If you don't take part in this mission, you will maintain plausible deniability. You could tell them I withheld the client information from you," Winston clarified. Sym looked down at the tablet in her hands. In the end, he was looking out for her best interests. _Would Sanjay have done the same?_

            "Winston... Thank you," she finally murmured.

            "You're very appreciated here, Sym. You're intelligent, insightful, and dedicated. I think you're a good fit. If... if the PETRAS act is ever repealed, and we no longer have to rely on private funding, I'd very much like to hire you on full-time,". Sym looked up at him. Winston's smile was soft and sincere. She smiled back.

            "Thank you, Winston. Your offer is greatly appreciated,". The gorilla finally left the cockpit, and head back to his office. She still felt conflicted about the situation on a whole, but at least the bit of tension between her and Winston was slightly eased. She knew she'd never be able to accept the position he offered. Leaving Vishkar was not within the realm of possibilities, but she supposed it was the thought that counted. A few moments later, her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar stomp-click.

            "Everythin' alright?" he asked, his eyes darting towards the path Winston had taken to leave the ship. Sym shrugged.

            "Not entirely, but it is better, at least," she answered. She finally noticed the state he was in. He was covered in grease and dust from climbing under the ship.

            "Oh good heavens, you are filthy!" she gasped.

            "You're one t'talk. Seem ta remember some'a the things ya said last night! Oh Jaime! Take that tongue, an' lick my," but she clamped her hand over his mouth to interrupt his reenactment.

            "Are you quite finished?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in warning. She had finally made peace with the fact that everyone knew about their relationship, but no one needed to know the things they did behind closed doors. Even with her hand covering his mouth, she could see the smile forming. It was an impish grin that she was becoming quite familiar with, and it triggered her heart to race; a rather Pavlovian response. Just to be a brat, he jabbed his tongue between her fingers, and she gave a surprised yelp.

            "I certainly hope this isn't the sort of behavior you display when we go out tonight," she reminded. He grinned some more.

            "No worries, love. I'll be a proper gentleman t'night... till y'say otherwise," he replied, tossing in a wink.

            "Go clean yourself up, or there will be no date!" she jokingly warned. He feigned annoyance.

            "Ugh! Fine!" he said, forcing a fake groan, and trudged out of the ship with exaggerated stomps.

            _He's loud, filthy, obnoxious, and crude... and he's perfect._

_.           .           .           .           ._

 

            Despite his many many MANY reassurances that he actually was a decent driver (which was a complete and utter lie) Hana would not loan Junkrat the keys to her car. She did, however, give them to Sym. The pair rode into town, and ended up parking in front of a small cafe. She stepped out, and started heading towards the doors.

            "Ain't we s'pose ta get a clock?" he reminded. Sym smiled, and grabbed his hand.

            "Eventually, but first, refreshment," she answered. The cafe was surprisingly empty. The threat of rain seemed to scare most people off, and, as it was no longer the height of the tourist season, the sidewalks in general were fairly vacant. Sym seemed to be right at home. She stepped into line, looked over the menu, and settled on iced jasmine tea. Junkrat scratched his head as he looked it over, and then remembered Hana mentioning they had bubble tea. He had grown rather fond of the drink when he and Hog had toured through Japan. He settled on taro, and added lychee jelly along with the boba. The clerk behind the counter asked for his name to write on the cup, and raised an eyebrow when he said "Junkrat". _Shit. Shoulda' come up with a fake name! Well... a different fake name._ He and Hog had been out of the headlines for a while, but a bounty as large as theirs was still enough to stay fresh in the public eye. Thankfully, the young woman behind the counter didn't seem to make the connection. She called out his drink a few moments later.

            "I got a taro bubble tea for Skunkbrat!" she shouted. Sym stifled a snicker as he snagged the drink from the counter. They took a seat by a window, and he sipped away while she stared out the window, lost in thought. _Aw fuck, look'it you bein' all pretty like that!_ She had worn the green sundress again, but in the absence of the summer heat, she had wrapped up a gold embroidered scarf around her shoulders. Her hair was swept back away from her face in an elegant chignon.

            "Penny for your thoughts," he mused. She took a quick draw of her tea, before turning back to him.

            "This time I have none. I was watching the clouds," she replied. Junkrat took a sip of his own drink. _Not bad._

            "You and Hana both, I swear. What is your fascination with that drink?" she asked. He held the cup out to her.

            "Try it!" he said, wiggling his eyebrows in hopes to make the offer more enticing. Sym gazed at the beverage in serious thought, leaned forward, and took a quick sip from the wide straw. _How does she make everything sexy? Like, everythin'?!_ She sucked up one of the tapioca pearls, and made a confused face. It took a moment for her to realize she would need to chew it. She finished her sip, still puzzling over it.

            "It is not the tea for me, though I will surely never forget the experience!" she answered, and gave a chuckle.

            "Yeah, yer more fancy with yer tastes. Worth it t'see the look on yer face, though!" he snickered back. He decided he liked the café, and she decided to start calling him Skunkbrat. After finishing their drinks, they went on the search for the new alarm clock.

            They didn't have much luck, but it didn't seem to bother to Sym. They stopped off at a book store, and Sym walked up to a display stand. It was for 'The Highwayman's First Love'. Apparently, the author of the first two Highwayman books decided to make a prequel. Sym grabbed a copy.

            "Ah! Perhaps Hana would like this addition to her library. I've been wanting to get her something. Hog, too," she said.

            "Yeah?".

            "Yes. They've been very good friends to me. I would like to show my appreciation," she answered. _Christ, yer so damn good and pure!_ She held the book out to him.

            "But I cannot be seen purchasing something so... undignified. You buy it!" she grinned. _I take back everythin' I said! Yer trouble!_ Junkrat took the book from her with a smirk, and walked up to the counter. The man at the register rolled his eyes.

            "I don't get the fascination with this series..." the tiny old man said under his breath, as he bagged it up. Junkrat rolled his eyes in return.

            "Guess somebody didn't read the carriage house scene!" he quipped back, taking the bag from him. He hadn’t told anyone, but when Hog was reading the first book, he had snuck a few choice pages in himself. He handed the bag over to Symmetra.

            "Alright, darl. I bought it. I think YOU can carry it!" he said. She took the bag, and hung it from the crook of her elbow. They set to walking, and passed by an arcade. Towards the open entrance, a claw game caught Junkrat's eye. He stopped, and tugged on Sym's hand.

            "Ya said, ya wanted somethin' fer Hog, yeah?". Sym nodded, and he pointed at the claw machine.

            "Hope you don't mind workin' for it," he said. Sym looked at the plush in the clear case.

            "It's a... turnip with tentacles?" she commented, confused. Junkrat ran into the arcade, and got her some tokens.

            "I'm rubbish at these things. Hog's got a real knack for 'em, though. Now, Pachinko! There's my kinda' game!" he beamed, and handed Sym the tokens. She walked around all four sides of the machine, hands behind her back. She studied it for a moment, as well as the plush inside.

            "I think I will manage," she said. She popped a token in the slot, and began to fiddle with the joystick. She seemed to be in genuine concentration. She hit the drop button, and the claw reached in. It pulled back up with a plush firmly in its grasp. She fished it out of the prize slot, and held it up.

            "Hog will really like this?" she asked as she examined the toy. Junkrat nodded.

            "I don't think you Junkers will ever cease to amaze me..." she stated under her breath, and tucked the plush into the bag with the book.

            "Right back at'cha'! How the hell'd ya do that on yer first try?!". 

            "I'm a woman of many talents," she explained. _Well I knew that!_ She handed him the rest of the tokens to save for a return trip, and the search for an alarm clock continued without much success. Eventually, they made their way towards the beach, and while the sky was hidden behind thick gray clouds, the view and sounds of the waves were still rather lovely. Junkrat saw the food truck parked off to the side of the road. _That's the truck Pipsqueak was telling me about!_

            "Ya feelin' hungry? Heard this truck is pretty good," he said, thumbing at the vehicle behind him.

            "Food from a truck? I highly doubt their kitchen is sanitary," she snipped. Junkrat gave a dejected "oh", and scratched the back of his neck. She seemed to notice the disappointed look on his face, and head towards it. She walked around behind it, and he followed her. She pointed at a small window.

            "I would like to inspect. If I find the inside satisfactory, I will give it a try. Give me a boost!" she instructed, keeping her volume low. He could have simply grabbed her waist and hoist her up, but where was the fun in that? He crouched down, popped his head between her knees, and stood up. She gave a stifled yelp, and clutched his head for balance. Sym tried to adjust her skirt, and regain her balance. He kept tickling her thighs as they draped over his shoulders.

            "Ain't gonna' drop ya, love! Go on an' take a peek!". Sym relaxed a touch, and peered through the window.

            "It appears clean enough, surprisingly. Oh! They make empanadas! Yes. This will suffice. You may put me down, now," she noted. Junkrat shook his head.

            "No way! I like playin' chariot f’my queen! ‘Sides, m’ears are cold!" he fibbed, and head towards the other side of the vehicle.

            "Jaime, put me down! People will see!" she quickly hissed.

            "What? All two a them? Don't worry 'bout it! S'far as they can tell, we're just bein' all cute n' shit!" he grinned. Sym looked around and noticed the lack of people on the beach.

            "Very well... your queen is hungry. Onwards!" she ordered, giving him a tap on the head. He got up to the window, and the man working inside seemed rather amused at the sight before him.

            "I'll take a pork an' a chicken, an' the lady'll have..." he started, and crouched down to bring Sym's face level with the window.

            "Um... the vegetarian option, please," she hesitantly ordered, and fished into her purse to pay. The clerk gave a chuckle, and began to fetch their order. A few moments later, with food in hand, and Sym still sitting on his shoulders, he stepped over to the beach.

            "Aren't your shoulders getting tired? I can't believe all my extra weight feels too good," she asked.

            "Sheila, you got any idea how heavy those bloody RIPtires are?". She gave a low chuckle, and it almost sound sultry.

            "My, your boundless strength, skill, and stamina are certainly nothing to sneeze at," she teased, and his ego shot through the roof. _Oh-ho-ho, I'm gonna' give ya' a taste a'all three t'night!_ Having found a cement breaker that was clear of sand, he scrunched back down, allowing Sym to clamber off. They sat together, watching the waves while eating their pies. _Damn! These are fuckin' tasty!_

"So... y'havin' fun?" he asked between bites. She gave him a rather heart-melting smile, and even in the dim light of the gray skies, her gold eyes seemed to glow. His heart began to race, and a notable flutter settled in his stomach. _How does she do that? How can she turn me int’a a fuckin’ puddle ev’ry damn time?!_

            "Yes. Very much so, but I think that is due mostly to the company I keep," she replied, and pecked his cheek. She sat her half-eaten empanada on a napkin, and quickly formed a make-shift footrest out of hard light. She popped her feet up.

            "That's better!" she purred.

            "Never not gonna' amaze me when ya do that! Wouldn't mind learn in', m'self," he commented absentmindedly. She tilted her head in thought.

            "It takes many years of practice to learn, and not everyone has the natural ability, but I could show you the first step, if you're interested," she offered. How could he say no to that?

            "Show me!". She held her palm out, and motioned for him to come in closer. He peered at the blue crystal lens in the center. The light seemed to slightly pulse in tandem with her heartbeat.

            "Clear your mind. There is only the light, and nothing more..." she murmured. He tried to do as she said, but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to comply. He stared at the light.

            "...shut the world away..." she purred. _Look at the blue light. Just the light. Urgh, she's wearing that perfume again. No! Light, stare at the light. Nice an' calm, just like in m'dreams. No! Light. Lightlightlightlight... Oh, stuff it!_ He told his brain to shut up and stop noticing things, and for once there was silence in his head.

            "Do you see the tendrils?" she asked. Her voice seeming far off in the distance. He didn't answer, but he thought he could see the wisps. He felt her grab his good hand, and she guided his fingers to hover over her palm.

            "Light is neither a wave, nor a particle. It has no form, and so it can be molded. Bend the reality to your liking," she hummed. Hesitantly, he reached for one of the wisps, and tried pinching it between his fingers. He plucked the tendril, and pulled it up. It felt surprisingly cool, and a tingling sensation coursed through his fingertips. _It's... I'm... This can't be real!_ For a brief moment, he was holding a small sliver of light! The tendril curled up and dissipated into nothingness, but his face hung in shock and awe.

            "Impressive! Not everyone can grasp it on their first try!" she said, and she seemed to hold a sense of pride in his attempt.

            "It's gone, though..." he finally answered. She kissed his cheek to ease his disappointment.

            "That is because you started to doubt yourself, and lost your concentration. It is the largest struggle in constructing hard light. Even I have difficulty in it from time to time. But I wasn't lying. I think you could eventually learn, if you manage to master clearing your mind,". Junkrat shook his head, bringing him back to reality. He didn't know what to do or say, so he let out a breathy giggle, and went back to finishing the last few bites of his empanada. The romantic moment was interrupted by a couple of heavy drips hitting the top of his head. He looked up, and felt the rain starting to fall in a light sprinkle. Sym let out a small groan, and popped her scarf up over her head.

            "This blasted rainy season! The weather report said the rain would hold off until later!" she grumbled.

            "Should we head back?" he asked. Sym stood up, and knotted the plastic shopping bag to keep her items dry.

            "I suppose so... but maybe we could watch a movie when we get back," she said, heading back the way they came. Junkrat had a feeling they were forgetting something.

            "Oh! Alarm clock! Still wanna' try an' find one?" he asked. Sym paused under the nearest awning of a closed shop, and shrugged.

            "You know? I think we should just try again later. Perhaps next Friday?".


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team leaves for Rio, and Sym has the place to herself. Junkrat meets Lucio, and the experience is not quite what he expected.

            Symmetra tried with all her might to pull herself out of his grasp, but she was beginning to suspect that the inner part of his arms and legs were lined with invisible suction cups. Ordinarily, Junkrat's hold on her wouldn't have bothered her, but she knew he needed to get ready for the mission. Plus, she felt that her bladder was fit to burst.

            "Jaime, you need to get ready," she told him.

            "Mmmmmmmmmmnnnnnnoooooooo," he grumbled.

            "You all will be leaving in an hour," she informed.

            "So?"

            "Don't you think you had better pack?"

            "Ain't got nothin' ta pack," he replied. _Yes, I suppose that is true._

            "Nope. No packin’. Just gonna’ stay here an' get as much Sym-time as I can b'fore I leave," he added. Sym let out a dejected sigh.

            "Jaime... I have to use the restroom..." she begrudgingly stated. She didn't want to ruin the moment, but she was beginning to reach critical mass. He started giggling, and released her from his vice-like grip. She slid out of bed, and head to her water closet. Knowing there was little to no soundproofing, she turned the faucet on to cover up any noise.

            "Oh my gawd, d'ya honestly think I'm bothered by th'sound a’you takin' a piss?" he said, his muffled voice cutting through the running water.

            "No, but I am!" she quipped in response, and immediately regretted saying anything. Her face ignited in an embarrassed blush, and she was glad he couldn't see.

            "Stop that blushin'!" he called back. _Alright, that's just unnerving! Does he have X-Ray vision?!_ She finished up, and pulled her robe down from the hook on the back of the door. When she had stepped back out, she noticed he was starting to pull on his clothes, though they were different from the usual black denim and white shirt that he had been sporting for last few weeks. He did up the button of his blue jeans, and pulled a lime green shirt down over his head. A design in white had been screen printed across it. She recognized the design. It was Hana's rabbit logo. Across the back, the words 'Nerf This!' were proudly displayed. Sym raised a curious eyebrow.

            "Pipsqueak thought I'd blend in better. She made Hog wear one, too. Had it special made so it'd fit 'im," he merrily chirped. He started scooping up his old clothes off of the floor.

            "Oh, just pop those in my basket. I'm doing laundry today anyways," she absentmindedly instructed. He complied, equally absentmindedly. After a quick breakfast, he headed to the hangar, where everyone was beginning to congregate. Sym followed along to see them all off. 

            The ship had not been repaired in time, and the crew needed to ride out to a private airfield, where Hana's jet lay ready. Lena, Winston, Torb, and Reinhardt piled into Angela's minivan. The poor vehicle groaned under the weight of both a gorilla, and a walking mountain. Mei, Zarya, and Jesse were to ride along with Hana in her car, and the Junkers would take their motorcycle. 

            "Behave yourself!" she warned.

            "I will!" Junkrat promised.

            "He will," Hog reassured.

            "Be careful," she said, concerned.

            "I will!" Junkrat promised again.

            "He will," Hog repeated.

            "Let me know when you all have safely landed," she instructed.

            "I will!" he promised for the third time.

            "He will," Hog once again reassured. Sym gave a smirk, and felt appeased. She started to back away from the sidecar, but Junkrat snatched her wrist.

            "Ain't ya f'gettin' somethin'?" he asked. She looked around, confused.

            "Where's m'goodbye kiss?" he sniffed, and gave her the most pitiful face he could muster. Sym's eyes darted around. The rest of the team stood around, loading up what little luggage they had into the other vehicles. _Oh, what do they care?_ She leaned down, and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

            "And one f’good luck?" he asked, clearly fishing for more. She acquiesced, and let the second kiss linger just a touch longer.

            "And one last one just cause I like kissin' ya!" he grinned. She rolled her eyes, but complied. There was the slightest hint of a growl in the back of his throat that reached her ears. A sharp whistle broke her concentration, and when she looked up, Jesse flashed them a mischievous grin. Her face grew red all over again as she stepped away from the sidecar.

            "Too dang cute!" Jesse muttered under his breath as he walked past her, and hopped in Hana's car. Finally packed and loaded, Sym waved goodbye to the team as they sped off towards the airfield. When they were all out of sight, she turned, and looked at the empty watchpoint. _Now what?_  

            In all her life, she'd never been so very truly alone. Even in her time at Vishkar, where she had spent her little bits of free time in her own room, there had always been somebody not far away. While she was the very definition of an introvert, it was still unnerving to know that there was no one to speak to, no one to look at, no one to listen to.

            "Athena?" she called. Hearing the command, the computer responded.

            "Yes, Agent Symmetra?". It wasn't that she actually had a command for the computer. It was just nice to know that there was at least a voice she had access to.

            "What is the weather report for the day?" she finally asked.

            "Sunny, with a high of 20 degrees. There is a 30 percent chance for rain this afternoon," the computerized voice responded.

            "Thank you, Athena,". She walked through the complex, hearing only her own footsteps echo through the corridors. Sym had no work planned for the day, so she avoided the workshop. Chores offered her something to do, so she went to work on her laundry. She quietly sat in the laundry room, and read ‘The Highwayman's Brother’ while the loads finished up. Upon folding, she came across Junkrat's clean shirt and denim. She folded them up, but she wasn't sure what to do with them. She didn't have access to his room, though she supposed putting his clean clothes into his dirty room would have defeated the purpose of washing them in the first place. She decided to leave them in her top drawer until he returned. _He really needs more than one change of clothes, though..._

            "Athena?".

            "Yes, Agent Symmetra?".

            "What temperature is the water in the pool?" she asked.

            "The pool is heated year round, and should be at an optimal swimming temperature," the voice answered. _There! I can swim to my heart's content!_ And for several hours, she did just that. She had cooked herself a nice lunch and dinner, and between food, exercise, and reading, the day passed with considerably less anxiety. It was some time after dinner when Athena piped up.

            "Agent Symmetra? You have an incoming call from Agent Song. Would you like me to connect via my intercom?" the voice asked.

            "Yes, Athena,". She was in the common room at that point, and not far from the nearest communication console. She clicked the screen to activate it.

            "Hey girl! Just calling to say we la- oh ugh, God, Rat! Stop! Just give me a sec! Oof! Hey!" Hana started, but there was a sound of a bit of a scuffle, and some static, and then suddenly, a different voice came over the intercom.

            "Hey darl! We landed safe an' sound! Oh, piss off, Pipsqueak! Ain't gonna' wreck yer phone! So yeah! How's yer day been?" Junkrat asked, and she could hear Hana yelling at him in the background. She chuckled to herself before answering.

            "It's fine. I'm not particularly sure what to do with myself, to be quite honest," she replied.

            "Heheh... I could think of a few things... Oi! Knock it off!" he said, clearly trying to keep Hana away from her phone. There was a bit more of a scuffle, and finally Roadhog was on the phone.

            "Sorry, Sym. Gotta' go. What?... Ugghhhhh... Rat says he loves ya'. What?... I ain't tellin' 'er that!... Hhhhnnnn... he also says... kisses. Christ, I'm gonna' puke. Bye, Sym". The call ended rather abruptly, and Sym shook her head in equal parts amusement and disbelief. _That was certainly something!_

            Sym decided to pamper herself with a long hot shower, and some spa treatments. She did deep cleansing and moisturizing masks for both her hair and face, and painted her nails. _I wish we had a bathtub here. I would love to have a proper soak with oils and foams!_ Back in her bedroom, she decided to switch into pajamas. As she went through her top drawer, she looked over her selection. She hesitated for only a moment before grabbing Junkrat's shirt, and popped it on. _I will wash it again tomorrow. He'll never know!_ Though, something told her he wouldn't mind at all.

            The night wore on, but she wasn't feeling particularly tired. Having the place to herself had been unnerving at first, but realizing she had the freedom to do whatever she wanted without anyone watching or judging her opened up the realm of possibilities. She decided to indulge in a few luxuries she would have otherwise avoided.

            She started by raiding the pantry for some snacks, and found a box of microwave popcorn. _I'm sure Reinhardt wouldn't mind if I had one of his bags. I could always buy him more._ She dug through the refrigerator to find something to wash it down with. _And Hana said I was always welcome to one of her sodas_. She read the labels, and finally found a can of lemon-lime soda that was caffeine-free. She had her snack, her drink, but something was missing. _Alright. Let's see what it's like spending a Saturday night like Hana!_ She went to the common room, and started up her puzzle game. She started a new save file, not wanting to lose the spot that she and her friend had worked on together. Within an hour and a half, she was long past their previous save point, but her hand started to cramp. She decided to take a break, and watch some television instead. As she flicked through the channels, she came to a sudden realization. _Television is utter garbage!_ She settled for the Global News Channel, so she could catch up on current events.

            "Anti-Omnic protests have once again turned violent in London, following in the wake of the assassination of Tekhartha Mondatta ..." the anchor stated, and Sym watched. _Anti-Omnic tensions? Tell me something I don't know!_ It was nothing new to her. She had followed the headlines in London for quite some time, given that it was the location for Vishkar’s Tranquility Project. The anchor wrapped up the story, and transitioned to the next one.

            "While not violent, protesters in Rio de Janeiro have gathered in the streets outside the former Olympic Stadium, where activist-turned-music-sensation, Lucio, is preparing to give a free concert..." the anchor continued. Sym sat up a little straighter, and pushed the empty popcorn bowl out of her way. A knot began to form in her stomach, and her chest tightened.

            "Anti-Vishkar protesters have gathered in hopes to spread awareness to what they believe are crimes committed by the corporation. We now go live in Rio with Marcus Barroni for more on this story. Marcus?" the anchor said, transitioning to a reporter.

            "Thanks, Carter. As you can see here, thousands of protesters carrying signs have come in support of both Lucio's music, and his message. I was able to speak with Lucio off camera, and asked him a few questions..." the reporter began. Sym tuned out the reporter, lost in her own thoughts.

            _I know what he will say. Vishkar is guilty. Vishkar is violent. Vishkar destroyed the favelas... It was never my intention to bring harm to anyone... I wanted to help. I didn't want to see any more children suffer the way I suffered. That was why we went there. Why couldn't he see that?_ She remembered the sound of the blasts that rocked the favelas, and the flames that engulfed it all. That was not how it was supposed to go. Sanjay never admitted to it, but deep down, she knew. Vishkar had forced the city's hand. 

_"You will find in time, Vaswani, that the ends often justify the means..."._ Her superior's words echoed through her memory. _That is why I left..._ She looked down at her gauntlet. No, not her gauntlet. Their gauntlet. It was Vishkar technology, and Vishkar property... and so was she. _Who am I kidding? I will never be able to leave..._ Sym clicked the television off, and retreated to her room.

            She wasn't sure what to do. Her mind raced, and her chest tightened as though wrapped in an increasingly crushing coil. Breathing became difficult, and her body tensed as she succumbed to a crippling panic attack. She felt utterly trapped, and utterly alone. She curled up in her bed, and tried to utilize all of her calming techniques. None of them seemed to work, so she pulled a pillow close to her body, and hugged it tightly. It was the pillow Jaime had been using, and his scent lingered. It was a small comfort, and she didn't even mind the faint traces of gunpowder that mingled with his soap and his own natural musk. She remained in her bed for over an hour, and a part of her also worried if she was actually having a heart attack.

            _I have deluded myself into thinking I could change the company from within... but I am only one person._ She couldn't take the guilt of knowing what Vishkar was doing. There was a time where she regarded the corporation as her family, or as near to one as she was ever to get. They plucked her from the squalor she lived in, and saved her. Surely, their intentions were noble! And perhaps some members thought the same as she did, but somewhere along the way, things had changed, and she realized that Vishkar was no longer the champion of the people. _You cannot save the world if you start by destroying it._  

            Symmetra took a deep breath, and pushed herself up. _If I cannot change the company from within, then I will at least correct my own mistakes._ She went to her desk and grabbed her tablet. With the device in her hand, she began searching for more information about Vishkar, in hopes to glean more insight that the company may have kept censored form her. Her hunch wasn't wrong. A quick search brought up dozens of sites detailing the shady things her company had been doing under the guise of lofty goals; sites that the company managed to keep under wraps at the Utopaea headquarters. She found the website for Lucio's charity; The Leap Frog Alliance. They were using the concert to raise funds for the victims of the favela fires. The show, while technically free, was accepting donations. Lucio was even planning to live-stream the event so the whole world could see.

            "Music, like people, should be free! But, if you want to throw in a few bucks in appreciation, I'll make sure your money goes to help those in need!" The quote hovered above a donation button towards the side of the screen. She read it multiple times, before Sanjay's words came back to her. _"Freedom is an illusion, Vaswani. The weak cling to it. The strong embrace the truth. We are to live our lives according to design,"._ Her eyebrows knit together. The waves of panic slowly retreated, and were replaced with a fury she hadn't quite expected. _Yes, Sanjay. We live our lives according to design, and I will design mine however I see fit!_ She opened up a new tab in her browser, and proceeded to look at her bank account. _It is a small step... but I hope it is in the right direction._

_.           .           .           .           ._

 

            Junkrat and Roadhog mingled amongst the crowds of people outside of the concert venue. It was incredibly hot, and humid. It didn't seem to bother the protesters any as they packed tightly together. It was loud, chaotic, and suffocating. Sym would have hated every second of it. He looked around at the signs the people carried. Though most weren’t in English, the few that were read things like "Down With Vishkar!", and there were plenty sporting white V logos that had been crossed out.

            He had initially bristled at Winston when he heard that Sym wasn't to attend the mission, but in Rio, he finally understood why. Even if she had been dressed incognito, there was a very real possibility she would have been recognized as a Vishkar employee, and he wasn't sure how peaceful the protesters would have remained upon that discovery. Though he did love her, he certainly had no love for the corporation either. _Fuck that place. Fuckin' worst kinda' suits! The ones that ruin good people! I promise ya', Sym. Someday, I'm gonna' get ya outta' there!_

            The police of Rio stood around the edges of the crowd, keeping an eye on the protesters. Junkrat and Roadhog tried to stay away from them. They didn't want to be spotted. It was the last thing they needed. _Fuck, I ain't goin' back t'prison! Don't think I'll luck out like I did last time. They won't underestimate me a second time!_ He also knew that Winston would have no sway in getting them out, as Overwatch itself was (technically) still operating illegally.

            When the doors to the stadium finally opened, and the protesters filed in to get ready for the concert, the Junkers remained near the entrance to keep an eye on the police outside, and any straggling bystanders. The music began an hour later, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't find the tunes uplifting. He hadn't met Lucio at that point, but Hana said after the show (and after the protesters safely dispersed), they were all to meet him. Lucio got on the mic, and his voice emanated through the entire arena.

            "Look at all these faces! You see that, people?! Those are the faces of change! That's the power of people comin' together!" he said. The crowd roared. He played an amazingly long set before he finally got back onto the mic.

            "Alright, the show is windin' down. I know. I'm sad, too, but look at the donation counter! We're only five hundred thousand away from our goal! Crazy, right? Aw, don't let that big number fool ya! Everyone is kickin' in bits and pieces, and it's all going to help us! Any of you people watchin' at home? Got a few bucks to spare? We could really use... HOLY SHIT! Haha, sorry for swearin', but did you all see that?! Whoever the heck you are, anonymous donor, the people of Rio want you to know how thankful we are! Half a mill? Dude, that's... that's amazing! Alright everybody. One more song? Heck! Let's make it two. This first one goes out to all you wonderful people who came out tonight, and the second one? Well, I'm dedicating it to the anonymous donor! Whoever you are, thanks again! You're one in, well, half a million!". _Who the hell has that kind a' cash ta throw around?_ He did, of course, but he worked too damn hard for it, and he sure as hell wouldn't part with that big of a chunk.

            It was a long night for the crew. Even after the concert ended, protesters and fans milled about the arena. The sun was just beginning to rise when the thousands of fans finally cleared the streets, and Rio returned to its normal hustle and bustle. Lucio had offered to treat the team to some breakfast in thanks, but (feeling too tired) only Junkrat, Hog, and Hana agreed to take him up on the offer. The others had head back to the airfield to wait on Hana's jet, and maybe catch a quick nap before take-off.

            In the small cafe, Lucio waited with a pot of dark coffee. He saw the trio, and waved them over. Despite staying awake the whole night, the man had energy to burn, and seemed to be in an entirely-too-chipper mood. Hana started the introductions, and Lucio shook their hands in a friendly manner.

            "Dang, are all you Junkers so friggin' huge?!" Lucio commented, craning his neck up to look at the pair in the eyes. Junkrat was surprised how short he was. He was only about as tall as Hana. What Lucio lacked in height, he made up for in personality and positivity. The man flagged a waiter down, and rattled off an order in a language Junkrat wasn't familiar with.

            "Hope y'all don't mind. I just ordered a spread. Thought you might like a real Rio breakfast!" he beamed, and handed Junkrat the pot of coffee at the sight of him yawning. He filled his small mug, and sipped. It was full-bodied, warm, and worlds better than the bitter shit back at the watchpoint. The conversation consisted mostly of back and forth between Hana and their host, both of whom gushed over each other’s latest bits of work. The food arrived, and Junkrat wasn't sure where to start. He watched Lucio grab some sort of croissant-like roll, and top it with a slice of ham. He decided to follow suit, ignoring Hog's grumbles. _Just cause you don't eat pork don't mean I can't!_ After a bit of conversation and munching, Hana excused herself to use the restroom. Lucio's attention turned to Junkrat.

            "So, Rat Man! Hana tells me you're hookin' up with that Vishkar bot..." Lucio piped. His tone was relatively relaxed, as if it weren’t anything out of the ordinary. Junkrat's eyebrows knit, and the amber of his eyes quickly grew molten.

            "Bot?" he bristled. He didn’t like the idea of comparing Sym to something inhuman. Hog nudged his knee under the table as a reminder of the promise he'd made before leaving the hangar. _Oh, I'll behave m'self... unless this little shit doesn't change his tune!_ Lucio noticed he had struck a nerve.

            "Sorry. Bot's a bit harsh. Ain't tryin' to start shit. Hana says good stuff about her, but then, she's got nothin' but love for everyone. You seem like a cool guy. Just tryin' to make sure you know what you're gettin' yourself into..." Lucio cryptically warned, spearing a piece of papaya with a fork.

            "Think I got a pretty good idea, MATE! Seein' as how I've been workin' with her these past six months, an' you ain't ever met 'er," Junkrat snapped. Lucio's seemingly-permanent smile faded to one of cold seriousness.

            "She works for Vishkar. She's got blood on her hands," he stated rather matter-of-factly. Junkrat's good hand curled tightly around his fork.

            "Don't sound like the Sym I know. Blood on her hands? Funny that, cause I've got loads... an' I ain't afraid t'get a little more,". Junkrat had kept his voice calm, but if it weren't for the metal gripped in his fist, he'd have been downright shaking with fury. His thumb pushed down, bending the thick metal fork in half. Lucio’s eyes darted at the Junker’s surprising strength, and knew he was on dangerously thin ice.

            "Like I said. I ain't trying to start shit. You’re a friend of Hana's, so I think you should know the kind of grip Vishkar has. I know they're funding you all. I'm not stupid. Just... be careful. That company has a way of usin' people, and then screwin' them over. They get into their employees' heads, too. You think you can take your girl out of Vishkar, but you'll never be able to take the Vishkar out of your girl," Lucio replied. Junkrat's stomach roiled. _Nah, mate. Think it goes th'other way 'round._ That thought, however, was even less comforting. Hana returned to the table, and while she and Lucio were back to their chipper selves, he and Hog had had enough. Junkrat stood up, reached into his pocket, and grabbed a crumpled wad of bills. He wasn't sure how much it was, considering the currency exchange, but he tossed it on the table, hoping it would be enough.

            "Thanks f'the grub. Think it's time we hit it. See ya in a bit, Pipsqueak," he grimaced. Hana glanced from him to Lucio, confused as to why they were taking off without her, but she just gave a nod. Outside of the cafe, he and Hog found a shuttle that would take them to the airfield, and they hopped on.

            "Smart move not makin' a scene..." Hog rumbled under his breath. Junkrat scowled.

            "Yeah. Promised I'd behave... Fuckin' git,".


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat stews about Vishkar, and the hold it has over Sym. He also has a sneaking suspicion that something happened while they were in Rio.

            Junkrat sat at the back of the plane, and tried to take a nap. It was a fruitless endeavor. Reinhardt and Torb sat nearby, their seats fully reclined. Their snores were more than enough deterrent for anyone else wanting sleep, but at least he knew he'd be left alone there. Hog sat not too far away, and while Junkrat knew he'd probably listen to him fume about Lucio, for once, he didn't want to speak. _Fucking git. Blood on 'er hands?! Who th'fuck does he think he is? Don't care how much he smiles! Where th'fuck does he get off?! Course I know Vishkar is fuckin' shit!... Sym wouldn't hurt no one unless they was tryin' t'hurt her first! S'why she left that damn place! Well... sorta' left... Fuck that place, an' fuck the shit they made her do! If she's got blood on her hands, then those suits put it there!_

            "Hey... You're awful quiet," Pipsqueak's voice cut through his internal stewing. He turned, and glared at her, but said nothing.

            "I called and told Sym we were heading back. It's going to be pretty late when we land. She'll probably already be in bed. She said to tell you she's going to leave her keycard on your desk, in case you want to let yourself in," she continued. She took the seat next to him, despite his sour face.

            "So what's up with you? You seemed fine until I came back from the bathroom at breakfast. Everything alright?" Hana asked. Junkrat grumbled, and turned to stare out the window. His eyes were fixated on the clouds.

            "Just how much'a our secrets does your lil pal know, huh? Ya two just flap yer gums about shit ya find entertainin'?" he sneered.

            "Oh, stop being an asshole. I was friends with him long before I joined the Recall. I had just turned nineteen. I was scared, alright? Didn't really fit in with all the... big kids, so we kept in touch. It was nice having somebody to talk to. Then Sym started working with us. She was the first person to treat me like an actual adult. I thought she was nice, even though she was super quiet. I mentioned her to Lucio, and he filled me in on Vishkar. Then you two came along. Sorry I told him that the Vishkar girl wasn't actually evil, and that she met somebody!" she snapped in reply, her voice dripping with sarcasm at the end.

            "He said she's got blood on her hands... Bullshit," Junkrat muttered. Hana rubbed her eyes out of exhaustion and frustration.

            "Look, he didn't mean it like that. He doesn't hate _her,_ alright? It's just... Vishkar ruined his home. Said they were going to help the lower class. They ended up just destroying everything, and made it look like an accident. He lost a lot of friends and family. They hurt him really bad, Rat. I think he's worried about what they may try to do to us, too. I know Winston is trying to find more investors. He doesn't like working with Vishkar either, but right now they're the only people willing to fund us," Hana mumbled.

            "Just... Be careful who ya talk to, Pipsqueak. This shit we're doin' ain't technically legit. If we ain't careful, an' this falls apart... Fuck, I don't wanna' go back t'runnin', an' I sure as fuck don't wanna' lose Sym," he replied. Hana grew quiet for a moment, and curled up on her seat. She hugged her knees to her chest.

            "I don't wanna lose her, either. Nor you guys. Or anyone on this team, for that matter. Lucio's dependable. He knows how much all of this means to me. He won't do anything to ruin it. Heck, if it weren't for Vishkar's involvement, he'd be on the Recall team in an instant! Even told Winston that last night backstage. He'd be really useful, too. Stole Vishkar tech and tweaked it... Might have even used a bit of it last night, actually," Hana admitted. Junkrat raised an eyebrow.

            "You notice the music made you feel extra good? Like, uplifted and happy?" she asked. Junkrat nodded, though was still confused. _I thought it was just th'music..._

            "Vishkar was messing around with audio tech. He got his hands on it, and now he can kinda', I dunno. He explains it better, but basically, he does with sound and music what Sym can do with light. He uses it to make people feel better. Cool, right?" she explained.

            "Guess so..." he answered. _Fuck, she makes it impossible to stay in a bad mood!_

            "Don't stay mad at him. What he said wasn't cool, but he really is a great person," she said, and her statement was followed by a yawn. She got up out of her seat, and started walking back towards the front of the plane.

            "Think I need a nap, but don't see that happening with these two sawing logs back here," she said, thumbing to Torb on one side of the aisle, and Reinhardt on the other. When she was out of earshot, Junkrat turned to Roadhog.

            "Oi, Hog... Ya' ever notice how creepy it is when Pipsqueak talks sense?" he asked.

            "Think it's creepier when ya' actually listen to it," Hog rumbled back. Junkrat reclined his seat, and tried to stretch out. His large friend did the same, and tossed a tiny pillow behind his head.

            "You actually gonna' try an' sleep through their racket?" Junkrat asked, thumbing back at the pair.

            "I'm used ta' sleepin' through annoyin' shit. Like you jabberin'..." Hog explained. Junkrat scoffed, but cracked a smile.

            The flight back seemed to take forever. All he wanted was to get home, eat something hot, and curl up with Sym. Was that too much to ask? _Shit... When did I start wantin' normal things?_ He had always been an adrenaline junkie. Nothing could ever possibly make a person feel alive quite like living on the edge of death. Or, at least, that's what he had thought. It had been his life for so long, it never occurred to him that there was a different way to live. Danger gave a sense of thrill, but love gave him a sense of contentedness. _Maybe... maybe that's all I'll ever need._ The protesters' signs flashed behind his eyes. _An' I'll be damned if I let anyone take it all away from me!_

            Their plane didn't touch down until after two in the morning, according to the clocks in Gibraltar. He struggled to keep his eyes open in the sidecar. _I need t'get the keycard. Then I can sleep._ Just as Hana had told him, the card was waiting on his table in the workshop. He walked as quietly as he could manage through the corridor to her room. Lena was just outside her own door, and gave him an awkward little wave goodnight. 

            All of Sym's lights were off, and he had to wait for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. He felt along the wall, and found his way to his side of the bed. With as much stealth as he could muster, he pulled off his arm and peg leg, and carefully set them on the floor so they wouldn't clunk too loudly. He slipped his clothes off, and reached for the edge of the blanket. Something, however, was amiss. Where was his pillow? Where was the blanket? His eyes further adjusted to the dark, and he noticed the rumpled mass of blankets on her side of the bed. A small chuckle escaped his lips.

            He slowly dug through the nest of covers, and finally found her curled up somewhere in the middle of it all. She had his pillow clutched tightly against her. He tried to pull it from her grasp, but she only gripped it tighter. _Alright. Need t'try a different method!_ He wiggled underneath the covers, and tucked up alongside her. He pressed his body up around her, and wrapped his hand over hers. Instinctively, her body relaxed, and her grip around the pillow loosened. He was able to slowly extract it, and placed it under his head. He also managed to pull a portion of her blanket away, and covered himself. Jaime pulled her close, and nuzzled the top of her head.

            "I'm home," he whispered, though he knew she was too deep in sleep to hear him. It just felt like the right thing to say.

            He wasn't sure exactly what time it was when he awoke, but he knew it was probably closer to lunch over breakfast. Sym was still next to him, though she was fully awake and sitting up in bed. She was reading the last few pages of a book, and he had a sneaking suspicion of what one it could possibly be. She flicked to the last page, scanned it for a few minutes, and closed it.

            "Did it have a happy endin'?" he asked, his voice groggy, and his eyes squinted. She smirked.

            "I suppose it wouldn't be a romance novel without one. I think I will need to read something of actual substance next, though... How was Rio?" she asked, setting the book on her nightstand.

            "Hot as balls, an' loud as fuck. You'da hated it," he replied. Sym gave a chuckle.

            "Sounds like Hyderabad, so your assumption would be correct," she mused. Her stomach gave a loud rumble.

            "Hmmm... Sounds like it's time for lunch. Are you ready to get out of bed?". He shook his head no, and scooched closer, laying his head in her lap. Junkrat finally noticed the shirt she was wearing, and it brought a small smile to his face. He tugged on the hem, and she looked down.

            "Looks good on ya," he commented.

            "I promise I'll wash it before I return it," she hastily apologized.

            "What?! An' wash off all that good Sym smell? No way!" he grinned. Her stomach rumbled again.

            "Alright! I get it! Food!" he snickered. Sym got out of bed, and threw on a quick change of clothes. She tossed Junkrat his shirt, and he popped it on.

            "Mmm... All warm an' Symmy!" he beamed, and, after quickly throwing on pants and such, they head down to the mess hall. It seemed they weren't the only ones to sleep in late. Most of the team still seemed groggy, save for those who had actually slept on the plane. Hana took a seat across from Sym, and proceeded to chatter away about the concert, leaving out the parts about the anti-Vishkar protesters. Sym merely listened, seeming half-interested. 

            "Yeah, Lucio played for like two hours! It was pretty crazy! And right at the very end, somebody donated half a mill! Can you believe that?!" Hana beamed. He noticed Sym's eyes suspiciously dart to Hana, and then back down.

            "Is that a fact?" she asked, before taking a bite of chicken. Hana would not shut up, and the more she talked about the concert and Lucio, the more Sym seemed to cringe.

            "Oi, Pipsqueak! Ya mind givin' it a break? Just woke up, right?" he snapped. Hana seemed to take heed of his warning. _She don't fuckin' like yer friend, so knock it off!_ She changed the subject.

             "So what was it like having the place to yourself for two days? Bet you liked having peace and quiet for once, right?" Hana asked, trying to engage Sym.

            "I found it to be surprisingly lonely and unnerving, actually," Sym coolly stated. Hana gave a sad "oh", and stopped talking for a moment.

            "You and Winston are supposed to try out some windshield prototypes today, right?" she asked, changing the subject yet again. Sym's eyes instantly brightened. _Smart move! Talk about work!_  

            "Yes. I feel very confident about the design we came up with. It was interesting working with Winston. I often forget how brilliant he truly is," she responded.

            "Why thank you! You're no slouch yourself!" Winston chuckled from one table over. Sym sat bolt-upright, and peered around. Even Junkrat jumped a bit. He hadn't realized the ape was sitting so close! Sym's face contorted into an awkward smile before Winston turned back to the conversation he was having with Mei.

            "So, I was wondering, why couldn't you just use hard light? I mean, I know I won't understand all the science-talk, but you seem to be able to do a lot of stuff with it. A full windshield wouldn't be that hard, right?" Hana asked. Sym held her metal palm out for her friend to inspect, but the light once again drew Junkrat's attention as well. He watched the crystal lens pulse.

            "Hard light is very strong when projected directly through the lens, but when I break the connection, it will dissipate. When making a free-standing construct, the more transparent you design it, the less durable the finished product will be," Sym explained. Hana seemed to understand, and nodded.

            "Okay... so why don't you just make something that just does what your gauntlet does? Like a hard light projector?" she asked, rubbing her chin in thought.

            "Oh! That would be a possibility were we in Utopaea, but unfortunately only trained architechs are allowed to have access to hard light lenses. Creating a separate hard light apparatus would be against policy at... Vishkar," Sym answered. It was almost undetectable, but Junkrat noticed the pause before her company's name. Hana didn't seem to, and just nodded in understanding. It was a subtle thing to witness, but Sym's eyes seemed to lose a bit of sparkle. Her smile no longer touched her eyes, and seemed forced. _Somethin's up with her!_ Hana still seemed transfixed with the light in her palm, and rubbed her chin again.

            "Can you make something? I've never seen it up close when you do cool stuff!" Hana requested. Sym gave another smile, and the warmth returned to her eyes. After a moment of concentration, she quickly began to weave light, forming it into something small. She held her hand out to Hana, who grabbed the item, and held it up. Dangling from a beaded chain was a small blue rabbit-shaped charm. Hana grinned.

            "That's awesome! Can I keep it?" she asked.

            "Of course. I understand pink is your favorite color, so feel free to paint it. Hard light takes well to most oil-based paints, as well as enamels," Sym replied. Lunch ended on a considerably happier note than when it had started. After eating, Sym headed off to the hangar to test the prototype windshield with Winston, and Junkrat didn't see her for most of the day. Testing ran late, and for once, she was the one skipping dinner. He decided to bring dinner to her, and found her alone in the hangar, still going over the prototype schematics, and making adjustments.

            "Saved ya a plate!" he beamed, as he stepped into the cockpit. She gave the tiniest jump at the sound of his voice, and looked at the clock on the navigation console.

            "Oh goodness! I didn't realize how late it was. Thank you, Jaime," she said, and took the plate from his outstretched hand. She pulled back the foil.

            "Jaime... A pile of coconut cookies is not a sufficient meal," she responded, but she still grabbed one, and began to nibble on it. He scratched his head.

            "Gonna' have'ta disagree with ya there!" he quipped. He looked over her work.

            "Prototype not workin'?" he ventured. Sym shrugged.

            "It seems to work well enough, actually, but Winston and I agree that we'd like to make it a touch more durable. It will require only a few slight adjustments. We'll try again tomorrow," she explained, and closed the notes on her tablet. The device chirped with a notification, and she peered at the screen. She gave an annoyed huff.

            "Yes! For the final bloody time!" she hissed under her breath, and quickly clicked away at her screen before setting the tablet back down.

            "Somethin' wrong?" he asked, before grabbing one of the biscuits off of the plate.

            "Oh, just my bank needing a confirmation on some information," she hastily responded, before patting the empty seat next to her. He sat down, and spun around to face her. She did the same, slipped her black pumps off, and popped her feet up to rest on his lap while setting the plate on the edge of the navigation console. He started rubbing her feet with his good hand, and she tipped her head back in enjoyment.

            "That... That is much appreciated. Thank you," she purred. _Anythin' f'you!_

            "So ya never answered Pipsqueak's question. What did ya do while we were all gone?" he asked, genuinely curious. Sym closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of her foot massage, and let out a strained sigh.

            "Just some reading, and exercise. I did some cleaning and organizing as well. I watched a little television, too," she answered. _She's hidin' somethin'..._

            "That all?" he asked, hoping to prod more out of her.

            "I watched the news..." she added, her tone turning grim.

            "Well, there's yer problem. Nothin' ever good in th'news!" he joked. Sym didn't laugh with him, and he knew he was getting close to the source.

            "They were reporting from Rio. I saw the protesters," she reluctantly admitted.

            "Oh love, why'd ya do that to y'self?" he asked. She grabbed another biscuit off the plate, and took another nervous nibble.

            "It wasn't my intention... but, in a way, I'm glad I saw it. It put some things in perspective, difficult though it was to admit to myself," she replied and paused, "Those people have every right to hate me,".

            "I ain't exactly knowledgeable 'bout what happened there, but I'm pretty sure you weren't th'one who started those fires, right?" he pointed out. Sym's mouth drew into a thin line.

            "Satya... I know y'weren't. Yer just blamin' y'self again. Gotta' stop it, love," he reminded.

            "I saw the explosions. I saw the fires. I saw people die. I did nothing. I was back to work the very next day, as if nothing ever happened," she said.

            "Those suits ya work for got you under their thumb, too. Got ya' blamin' y'self fer shit they did. Ain't right. I can't tell ya what t'do, but I wish ya'd just quit that place," he admitted. Sym's eyes darted up to him for a moment.

            "Jaime... that's never going to be a possibility," she responded, her voice forlorn.

            "Why not?" he asked. She held her cased arm up for him to better see.

            "Do you see this? My gauntlet... Not 'my'... it isn't mine. It is Vishkar property. My visor and projector, too. Nearly everything I own is Vishkar property. If I quit, I have to give everything up. Everything. That means no hard light, and without that, what purpose do I serve? I would be useless. A burden to the team. I'd have nowhere to go. I don't have family to turn to, and I certainly couldn't stay here if I'd have nothing to offer. And if I were to quit, I'm certain Vishkar would pull funding entirely, destroying all that we've worked for,".

            "We'll find a way!" he said. The statement was meant to be encouraging, but its vagueness didn't help. Sym shook her head.

            "A way? A way to what? There is no way... Jaime, if I could quit, I would. Please know that. I just need to be careful how I do things from here on out. I need Vishkar to think I am still a dutiful employee. If... if I keep them thinking that, then I can keep working here instead," she murmured. She rubbed her temple in frustration.

            "What can I do t'help?" he asked.

            "Just... please stay with me," she softly pleaded.

            "I think I can manage that,".


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat lands himself in the doghouse, and also finds the newest member of the Recall isn't particularly fond of him. Jesse proves to be far wiser than he appears.

            "Rat! Watch your six, partner!" Jesse snapped, firing a well-placed shot behind him. It found its mark in an Omnic's processor, destroying the bot.

            "I don't know what that means!" Junkrat snapped back. The mission had gone to hell in a hand basket almost as soon as they set foot in Lijiang Tower. They had planned to incapacitate human security guards. Instead, they were met with well-armed (and very unfriendly) Omnics and security bots.

            "It means behind ya, dumbass!" Jesse growled as he reloaded his revolver.

            "That's your job, ya dipstick! I'm just here t'blow the safe open, remember?!". He could hear the metal clang of more security bots making their way towards the vault. Junkrat snagged a grenade from his harness, and blindly threw it behind him in the general direction of the sound. The blast was loud, but as the noise dissipated, the clang of bots was nowhere to be found.

            "There! Saved both our sorry asses!" Junkrat smirked. Jesse took his hat off, and waved the smoke away.

            "Better be careful, smartass! You do too much damage to this place, and we might lose that lovely paycheck!" Jesse warned. Junkrat waved it off like it was no big deal, and started placing charges around the edges of the vault door.

            "Piss off, McCree. You'll get yer stupid bloody paycheck," he growled. Nearly getting killed by Omnics had put him in a rather sour mood, and he was downright tired of Jesse’s banter by that point.

            "Watch your tone, or I'll tell Sym what a reckless fool you’re actin'!" Jesse warned again. That set Junkrat's teeth grinding. _Oh, y'think that threat'll work on me?_

            "Fine, tell her. She won't give a shit once I get 'er inta the bedroom an' give 'era a taste a..."

            "JAMISON FAWKES! IF YOU DON'T SHUT YOUR MOUTH THIS INSTANT, I WILL PERSONALLY OPEN UP A TELEPORTER AND SEW IT SHUT FOR YOU!" Sym's scream came over the headset. _Oh for the love a... Of all th'times you'd choose ta listen in!_ Jesse was in absolute stitches.

            "Damn, Rat! She used yer real name and everything! Hoo-boy! Looks like somebody's in the doghouse tonight! Guess we now know who wears the pants in the relationsh..."

            "JESSE McCREE! IF YOU ALSO DON'T SHUT YOUR MOUTH, I WILL INFLICT THE SAME PUNISHMENT UPON YOU AS WELL!" Sym roared. She really seemed to have come out of her shell within the last few weeks.

            "Sorry, love. Didn't know I left m'headset on... Aw fuck, who else is listenin'?!" he said, realizing mid-sentence that he was set to the public channel.

            "Everyone..." Winston replied, and Junkrat could already hear the grimace in the ape's voice.

            "... the grenade didn't do that much damage..." he quickly added in, hoping to cover his ass.

            "Heheh... way t'go, Rat Boy!" Hana snickered.

            "Alright that's enough! Everyone who ISN'T inside the tower, switch your headsets off now! I need this channel open for those who are actually in the line of fire," Winston bellowed.

            "Aw, you're no fun!" Zarya quipped, and the sound of headsets switched off, leaving only Junkrat, Jesse, and Winston. Junkrat ground his teeth some more, and set the last charge.

            "Alright, gonna’ blow this baby wide open in ten," he warned, stepping back while counting. Jesse ran towards the stairwell to take cover, and keep an eye out for more security bots. Junkrat covered his exposed ear, and hit the detonator. The pops were intense, and blew the massive circular door wide open. The smoke finally cleared, and he and Jesse were about to step inside before Winston came back on the headset.

            "Hold it! Pharah! How's that inner alarm?" the ape asked, and Junkrat could hear the new recruit talking in the background.

            "Okay. The alarm has been disabled." Winston said, giving the go-ahead. Jesse strolled in, and looked around. He grabbed the massive metal gauntlet off a display table, and tucked it into a padded case.

            "You'd think people would learn this damn thing has a tracking device in it, but no! Back to the museum you go, sweetheart!" he chuckled. Junkrat reached over his shoulder, and pulled out the teleporter base that had temporarily taken the place of his usual RIPtire. Following Sym's instructions, he activated the base, and quickly sat down a small time bomb set for three minutes. The pair stepped through the shimmering blue portal. It was an odd sensation. It felt like walking through a sheet of water, but he came out the other side bone-dry. He quickly closed it, and turned around, only to find Sym waiting for him on a hovering stool. Her legs were crossed. Her arms were crossed. She was noticeably cross. Her golden eyes pierced through him, and he felt very much like a rat being cornered by a viper. 

            "Well... Think I'll just be hittin' the ol' dusty trail..." Jesse began, trying to head to any other place that wasn't the cargo hold of the dropship. Sym's head snapped, and her gaze suddenly zeroed in on the cowboy.

            "Stay right where you are. This will only take a moment... I do not appreciate being made a laughing-stock in front of the entire team. I do not appreciate the insinuation that one of us may be more dominant than the other in this relationship, and I do not appreciate that you tried to slight his masculinity because of it. He and I are equals, and we are to be treated as such. Now, what do you have to say for yourself?" she asked, her voice dripping with venom, and her eyes blazing. Jesse took his hat off, and nervously twitched it in his hand.

            "S-sorry ma'am. Won't happen again. Promise," he hastily apologized. She gave Jesse one last fierce flash of her eyes, and the cowboy gave a hard swallow in return as she appraised him. _Serves ya right, ya dipstick!_ Junkrat hadn't expected her to yell at Jesse, and he was actually rather pleased. _Heheheh... My baby loves me. She'll let me get away with anythin'!_ He couldn't contain his smirk.

            "Accepted. Leave us," she ordered, and that same terrifying gaze once again fell upon him. _Or not... fuck..._ Jesse gave him a worried face that read 'good luck', and Junkrat began to sweat bullets. Her eyes locked on him, and he was suddenly reminded of his very first day at Overwatch. She had been equally as fierce then. He was also reminded of one very keen bit of information. No one messes with the queen.

            "I'm sorry," he sheepishly croaked.

            "Is that how you speak of me to all of the men on the team? Or just some?" she asked. He knew the question was rhetorical, but he decided to answer anyways.

            "That ain't how I talk 'bout ya at all, actually. Just riled from almost gettin' my ass blown off by fuckin' bots," he answered, and the reminder that he had been in actual danger softened her face. It settled from venomous rage to one of sullen annoyance.

            "I'm glad you're alright..." she finally conceded. _There we go! My darl can't stay mad at me!_ He stepped closer to wrap her up in a kiss, but she placed a hand over his mouth.

            "You're sleeping in your own bed tonight," she said. He let out a grumble of acceptance.

            "You used m'real name, y'know. That was s'posed t'be secret," he reminded.

            "Anyone with access to your wanted poster would know your name. It is public knowledge," she countered.

            "Fair ‘nough... S'pose I'll just start callin' ya Satya in front'a everyone all the time then," he said, as if that would be a threat.

            "You may when we are not on missions or working," she allowed. She had relaxed considerably after that admission, and he was able to pull her up in his arms and sneak a kiss.

            "You're still sleeping in your own bed tonight. I was very embarrassed," she reminded.

            "Seems more like a punishment t'you than t'me. I was gonna’ work extra hard ta make it up t'ya, I'll have ya know!" he retorted. It was partially a bluff. Sleeping without her meant no actual sleep at all for him, though he'd never tell her that. Sym raised an eyebrow.

            "You can make it up to me tomorrow night, then," she said with a smirk. He rolled his eyes.

            "You may leave, or else they will start assuming I made good on my word. My sewing skills are nothing to sneeze at," she said, and he stepped away before she could change her mind about being angry. Compared to the look she had first given him, he figured he came out of the situation relatively unscathed. As he climbed up the steps to the upper level, he could hear the sounds of everyone coming back to the ship, and he knew his luck had officially run out. _Fuck, I ain't ever gonna' hear th'end a this!_ He certainly wasn't wrong.

            "Have half a mind t'tan yer hide fer talkin' 'bout Sym like dat!" Torb growled after giving him a sharp kick to the shin.

            "That was disrespectful. That is not how you talk about women!" Mei lectured, hands on hips. He would have told her to stuff it, but Zarya was standing right behind her, and he was pretty sure she would snap him in half if he said anything. Plus, he knew Mei wasn't wrong. The more he thought about his choice of words, the more he felt like a colossal git.

            "I know..." he hissed.

            "Zat vas uncalled for! Vhere is your honor?!" Reinhardt chided in passing. _Christ, none a you were s'pose t'hear it!_

            "He has none. He is a thief and a criminal, and Winston is a fool for hiring him,". Junkrat turned to regard the new recruit, who's eyes were possibly even more piercing and terrifying than Sym's. Fareeha Amari (or Pharah, as she preferred to be called) had made it very apparent from her first day what she thought about the Junkers. She wasn’t a fan. He didn't have a response to that, or anything. Her words cut right through him. _Yeah, I'm a real piece a shit, ain't I?!_

            "Easy now, Fareeha. Your mama said the same thing about me, once upon a time. And look at me now!" Jesse cut in, and Junkrat was immensely thankful for the assistance. She took off her blue helmet, and stared Jesse down. The cowboy stood his ground, and her eyes darted between him and Junkrat.

            "It is Pharah now," she corrected, and stepped away from the pair.

            "Thanks, mate," he said, heading over towards Roadhog, who had just climbed aboard.

            "Just like her mother. Cuts right to the quick of it. 'Course, that's the price you're gonna’ pay when you work with your girl. Everybody's gonna' know when you're squabblin', and they sure do love to run you through the wringer," Jesse explained. _Christ, maybe we shoulda' kept it secret after all!_ By the time they reached Hog, Angela had floated over, and was inspecting his hand.

            "If you don't let me treat it, it will get infected!" Angela lectured, peering at the incredibly tiny cut on Hog's knuckle. He let out a dismissive snort, but didn't pull his hand away as she brought out a little tool, and went to work on the minor injury.

            "There we are! Good as new!" she grinned. She turned at the sound of Junkrat's steps. The look on her face told him she was about ready to launch into her own lecture, so he decided to cut her off by holding his hand up.

            "Save it. Heard enough from everyone else fer one day, thanks," he snipped. Angela folded her arms, but seemed to know he had reached a breaking point.

            "Very well. I actually have a favor to ask of you. Girls Night is this Friday. I am to be the designated driver, but the brakes on my minivan are starting to act up. Would you be able to take a look at them for me tomorrow?" she asked. Thankful that she wasn't going to berate him, he nodded.

            "Sure, I'll take a look. If they need replacin', I know a spot in town that'll cut a good deal on the parts," he replied. Angela smiled at his acceptance, and patted his cheek.

            "Thank you. You are very sweet, and I appreciate your help," she said. _Good. At least I got an angel on m'side!_

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

 

            Sym had made good on her word on not letting him into her room for the night. Annoyed though he was, he knew he had it coming. He spent the night in his own bed tossing and turning. Not only would his brain not quiet down, but his own room actually seemed rather foreign to him. Over the past month or so, he had only popped in for a few minutes at a time, messing it back up. It really no longer functioned as a room, so much as a personal storage space for his junk, of which he had plenty. Sym's room was always so neat and tidy, and he found it offered a wonderful lack of distraction that proved perfect for sleeping. The chaos of his own quarters, while once a state he thrived in, no longer seemed as comforting. It was no longer his burrow to seek refuge in. It had become a goddamn prison that weighed him down, and clawed at his brain. 

            Fareeha's dismissive gaze, and venomous words resurfaced into his mind somewhere after midnight. _"He has none. He is a thief and a criminal,"._ Junkrat stared at his orange footprint on the ceiling. _She's right, a'course._ Something else gnawed at him, too. Sym had mentioned his wanted poster, which meant she had seen it... which meant she knew. She knew and she said nothing. Was she in denial about it? Was he?

            Petty theft was one thing, but how did she overlook the other claims? Murder? Terrorism? The media had skewed some of their exploits, of course. He never considered himself a terrorist. In the end, they were in it for the money and the thrill, and sometimes that meant people got hurt along the way. There were those who had it coming. Those suits who threw him and Hog under the bus needed to be taught a lesson, and boy did they ever. He didn't regret that. The faces in his nightmares, on the other hand... _She's the one who thinks she's got blood on her hands, but I'm th'one that actually does..._ He looked around the room, disgusted with himself, and everything around him. _Fuck this shit!_

            He trudged into the common room, hoping maybe he'd be able to get some sleep there. The room wasn't anywhere near as soothing as Sym's, but at least there was a couch, and it was kept relatively neat. He noticed the television was on, though the volume was turned down low. The couch he had intended to sleep on was occupied at one end.

            "Shit! She didn't even let you sleep in your own room?! That's some punishment!" Jesse chuckled, and took a sip from an amber bottle.

            "Shut it. Couldn't sleep," he snarled before plopping down on the other end.

            "Yeah? Well, that makes us two of a kind, I suppose," he replied, ignoring Junkrat's tone.

            "Why're you up?" Junkrat asked, feeling curious.

            "Oh, you know... just havin' bad memories come back to haunt me is all,". _Tell me 'bout it._

"Same, I guess," he grunted in return. Jesse eyed him, and let out a long breath.

            "Thought it might bug you... Listen Rat, don't let Fareeha get ya down. Think she's just havin' a hard time adjustin' to what this place has become," Jesse finally muttered, and for a moment Junkrat wondered if the cowboy could read his mind.

            "Yeah? She been here b'fore?" he asked. He vaguely remembered Winston mentioning something about her mother working for Overwatch.

            "Oh yeah. Her mama practically ran this joint back in the day. Fareeha was just a kid growing up around here. This place was her home, and the people around her were her family. I was in a different division, but I'd occasionally stop here. She thought the world of me. Called me her big brother. Oh, her mama hated that, let me tell ya. Begged me not to be a bad influence," he started.

            "Bad influence?". Jesse had mentioned being in a gang in the past, but Junkrat had shrugged it off. Gangs in the civilized world had nothing on Junker packs. Jesse reached into his pocket, and pulled out his wallet. From the inner folds, he tugged out a tattered piece of paper, and carefully unfolded it. Junkrat took it from him, and examined it. In the dim glow of the television, he could see a police sketch of a very young Jesse McCree. It was a wanted poster. Theft, arson, assault... murder.

            "Funny... Mine's 'bout th'same," he commented, not actually finding it very funny.

            "I know. I've seen it, which is why I'm showing this to you. I was fourteen when Deadlock took me in. Shit, I had nothin' at the time, and they gave me a chance to get out of the sorry state I was in. Of course, had I known what would have happened, would have turned them down. I was just doing what I had to do to make it day to day. I think you of all people know what that's like, right?". Junkrat nodded in agreement. _Fuck, I know all too well._

            "Well, turns out you can't live that kinda' life for long without it catching up with you. I was lucky. Got a choice. I could rot in prison the rest of my life, or put my life on the line with Overwatch. Well, Blackwatch. I was eighteen at the time. Life in prison wouldn't suit me, so I took the latter option, thinking I could just work my way out, and get back to Deadlock. Things changed, though. Turns out, I didn't want to go back. Turns out I liked being a good guy. Got a second chance, and I sure as hell never looked back," Jesse continued, but ended on a pause. He reached down by his feet, where a six-pack rested, fished a bottle out, and handed it to Junkrat. The Junker folded up the wanted poster, and exchanged it for the bottle.

            "Don't know what brought you an' Hog here in the first place, but I got a feelin' it's kinda' the same story," he added. Junkrat flicked the top off of his bottle with his metal thumb.

            "Not gonna' lie. Yer kinda' startin' t'creep me out with th'way ya keep hittin' th'nail on the head, mate," Junkrat cut in. Jesse let out a gruff laugh, and drained the last of his bottle.

            "I wasn't lyin' when I told you and Hog we were kindred spirits. Think Winston saw it too, in his own way. This place is full of second chances. Hell, even this Recall itself is a second chance,". Junkrat watched as Jesse tucked the poster back in his wallet.

            "Why d'ya keep the poster with ya?" he finally ventured. It seemed like an odd thing to carry for someone who also regretted his past. Jesse sat the empty bottle on the coffee table in front of him, and decided he'd have a second.

            "Our pasts never leave us. They're an important reminder, Rat," he answered.

            "A reminder f'what?".

            "About the decisions we make from here on out. I decided to put Deadlock behind me. Every day, I just try to do the right thing. It won't undo what I've done, but at least it won't hurt anyone ever again," he stated, opened the bottle in his hand, and held it out.

            "To fresh starts and second chances, partner,". Junkrat clinked his bottle in kind, and took a long pull. _Maybe, but my past is still out there somewhere waitin' f'me._ He shoved that thought to the back of his brain. _A problem f'another day, I guess._

Jesse's words lingered in Junkrat's brain well into the night. The cowboy left shortly after their conversation, leaving him the couch to sprawl out on. The change in scenery did little to quiet his mind, and he spent another sleepless night wondering, thinking, but mostly worrying. Much like his very first night there, he heard the sounds of somebody walking towards him. _I know who that is. Must be almost sunrise._

            Sym's steps were quiet. The rubber soles of her running shoes cushioned her footfalls, and made her approach nearly silent. Nearly. She walked past the entrance, and for a moment, he hoped she had passed right by without noticing anyone had been in there. Her steps stopped just past the entrance. _Fuck._ He didn't want her to see him like that. She had enough on her plate as it was. Vishkar had contacted her multiple times in the three weeks since Rio, and in an effort to appear the ever-loyal employee, she had spent many hours in the conference room aiding them in some ongoing project. _Just keep walkin', love. Don't need ya seein' me all mopin'._ Unlike her, he was not as good at concealing his emotions. Withdrawing and bottling had always been his go-to remedies.

            "Jaime... did you sleep on the couch?" she asked, stepping into the room.

            "Oh! Uh... Yeah. Felt like watchin' somethin', an' then fell asleep," he lied. Sym seemed to buy the feeble story.

            "Well, I'm sorry to have disturbed you. Would you like the keycard to my room? I'd imagine my bed is far more comfortable than this old thing," she said, patting the arm of the couch.

            "Aw, no love. Don't worry 'bout it. I'll just finish up here. No worries," he said. _I can mask, too._ She leaned down, and kissed his forehead.

            "I'm not mad at you, you know. You don't have to punish yourself further," she said, and slipped him the keycard. He took it, and slid it in his pocket, though he had no intention of using it. She seemed appeased, and head out for her usual run. He didn't want her to catch him still lingering in the common room, so he headed back to his own hovel to wait until breakfast.

            She had been called away again shortly after breakfast, and she never made it to the workshop, lunch, or dinner. It was fine by him, really. He knew she'd notice the dark circles under his eyes, and would likely prod him about it. After dinner, he made his way to the hangar to look at Angela's van, as he had promised. The doctor gave him her keys, and took off so she wouldn't get in his way. 

            He slid underneath the vehicle, and set to work. It had been a while since he'd been under a car, but he almost seemed to operate from muscle memory. He found the newer floating cars operated almost the same as the old tired cars in the Outback, and he soon removed the bits and pieces he needed to inspect. _Her pads are worn out. Rotors are a bit rusted. Should be easy t'fix._ The task seemed to calm his mind, and he was thankful for it. Having gotten everything back in order, he let out a yawn, and his eyelids began to droop. _A nap here is as good a place as any._ He dozed off underneath the car, where he felt right at home, and didn't even mind the unforgiving cement beneath him. An hour later, his nap was interrupted.

            "Thanks Sym. I know you were busy today, but I don't know who else can help me. Torb said he's too busy, and I haven't seen Rat Boy since dinner," Pipsqueak's voice cut through, rousing Junkrat from his nap. Disoriented, he remained silent underneath the car

            "It is no trouble. I can’t guarantee that I will be able to answer your question. My specialty is design, not repair. That is more Junkrat's specialty," she replied to her friend. _They don't know I'm here!_ He lingered underneath, wondering if he should interrupt them and acknowledge his presence, but a third set of footsteps came walking through.

            "And destroying things," Pharah's voice echoed. Junkrat cringed, and remained tucked underneath the van. He turned his head to the side, and could make out their legs standing a few yards away. Pharah's blue armor hung next to Hana's Meka, and he assumed the woman was inspecting it.

            "Yes, Ms. Amari. To the untrained eye, one could say that. Though, I find he is actually quite skilled, and offers much to our team, and despite his mercenary status, he has proven time and again to be incredibly loyal," Sym replied. Pharah gave a huff.

            "Yyyeeeaaahhhh, so... It's this bit here. Got all banged up on the last mission, and now the left gun keeps jamming," Hana piped up, changing the subject. He could see Sym crouch a bit to get a better look.

            "Hmmm... I think I see the issue. The casing split, and seems to be causing an obstruction... That appears simple enough. Do you have access to the schematics? I could replicate the damaged piece, and perhaps he can replace it... whenever I find him, that is," Sym replied.

            "What good is a pilot who can't make her own basic repairs?" Pharah cut in. He could see Hana shrink back a bit, though Sym stepped between, and turned to face their antagonist.

            "Ms. Song is also quite skilled, and it is my honor to repair her vehicle for her," she started, and turned to look over Phara's suit, "Given the uneven lines and evidence of hasty patching I see in your own armor, I would gladly offer my services to you as well, Ms. Amari," she replied. Sym's voice was cold, aloof, but professional. Junkrat was not fooled. _Oh ho ho, get 'er, darl!_ Maybe it was weird, but he found the little showdown between her and Pharah to be a bit of a turn-on.

            "And land myself in Vishkar's pocket as well? No thank you. I have left that mistake to Winston," Pharah snipped.

            "Ms. Amari... It seems you have taken issue with many of Winston's decisions regarding this Recall, yes? I am sorry you have returned to find Overwatch has changed since you were last here, but I assure you Winston is doing everything he can to make this Recall work. This takes time, and we are doing our best with the resources given. I am sure you will come to find the newer recruits to this team to be loyal and effective assets, and hope you will soon judge us less harshly,". Pharah seemed to bristle, turned, and walked out of the hangar in silence.

            "...bitch..." Sym muttered under her breath, and Hana burst into a fit of laughter.

            "Oh my god! Sym! That was amazing! You put Eagle-Eyes in her place!" Hana cackled. Sym let out a sad sigh.

            "I fear I was a bit harsh, though. Jesse has told me that she grew up here. I am sure she finds this place vastly different from what she remembers. Still, it is not right of her to step in and try to undermine Winston. I commend her want of discipline among the ranks, but that is not how we operate here," she answered.

            "Thanks for sticking up for me," Hana said, and Sym turned to look at her.

            "Of course. I know you would have done the same for me... but yes, repairs! Would you be able to send me the schematics?" she asked, changing back to the reason they came down.

            "Yeah! Well... I need to check. I think I have them on paper, actually. Let me go dig through my room and find them. I'll bring them to breakfast. Sound cool?" Hana replied. Sym agreed, and Hana left the hangar to go on her search. Sym lingered, and gave a sigh.

            "You can come out now, Jaime," she called. He cringed.

            "Nobody here but us chickens!" he responded, and Sym gave a soft chuckle as he climbed out from underneath the minivan.

            "Sorry... fell asleep, and woke up to you lot spittin'... Didn't want ta get in the middle a it," he hastily apologized as he grabbed a rag and wiped his hands clean.

            "Yes, I noticed your shadow part way through. I am sorry you had to witness me like that," she replied. He grabbed her low by the waist and pulled her close.

            "You kiddin'? Nothin' sexier than a queen takin' charge!" he grinned.

            "I do not like the way she speaks of you. She doesn't even know you!" Sym snipped, and Junkrat gave another chuckle.

            "Seem ta remember ya weren't too keen on me either when I first got here. Dirty dangerous criminal steppin' in, bustin' yer chops..." he reminded.

            "Yes. You most certainly were. But then I discovered you had your own charms, and despite your past... I discovered deep down resided a good man," she said, ending in a heart-melting smile. _A good man?_ Her words left him breathless.

            "Aw, love... I ain't so sure 'bout that last part," he sheepishly admitted. She tilted her head up, and kissed his chin.

            "I would not be with you if I thought otherwise. I have done my research. I have observed you for some time, I have reached my conclusion, and I feel confident in the results. You are a good man, Jamison Fawkes,".


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's another Girls Night Out, and Sym is determined to not let Pharah get to her. Hana indulges more than she intends, and reveals a rather big secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I wanted to do one last night of drunken hijinks before things get super serious. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
> 
>  
> 
> (I'm not sorry at all)

            Sym crammed in the back of Angela's minivan with Hana and Lena. Mei and Zarya took the middle two seats, and Pharah rode in the front. She tried to not be angry. She tried to not focus on the woman's rude stiffness, and the way she always bristled at Junkrat and Roadhog, and the way she talked down to Hana. _She is an adult, and should be treated as such!_ Sym found she no longer had the track to herself in the mornings, nor the lap pool in the afternoons. She even used Sym's preferred shower stall (it was slightly bigger than the rest, which had irked her considerably when she first joined Overwatch, but she later discovered it afforded more sitting room and wasn't as claustrophobic-feeling as the others). Everywhere she went, there Pharah was.

            "Oh, Fareeha! You're too much!" Angela giggled from the front seat, and the other ladies, save for Hana, joined in the laughter. _And she has even taken my friends!_ Sym immediately scolded herself for having such petty thoughts and jealousies. _Jealousy is weakness. I am better than that... She's still a bitch, though._ There was one other thing that got under her skin. She didn't like the way Pharah looked at her. Occasionally she would look up from her meal, or around her during staff meetings, and would find Pharah looking down on her with an intense stare. Two could play that game, and Sym would stare back. She wouldn't let the other woman make her feel weak. She vowed she'd always stand her ground.

            _She is now a part of this team. I will put my feelings aside, and be amiable. Tonight is Girls Night. It is about sisterhood and comradery. We will have fun._ They pulled up to the restaurant where they were to start the evening, and Pharah held the door open for the group. _There. She has good manners._ Sym found the meal to be enjoyable enough. They had settled on seafood, and she and Hana both decided to treat themselves to lobster. Conversation was light, and Pharah regaled the table with some of her military exploits.

            "Oh, your mother would be so proud, Fareeha!" Angela said, and Sym noticed something in the corner of Pharah's eye.

            "Perhaps so, though I do not know how she would feel about me accepting this Recall," the woman responded. She took a back seat to the conversation for the rest of the meal. Upon finishing dinner, the group head towards a venue of Hana's choosing.

            "I was in the mood to dance, but this club also has private lounges you can rent out! I'm treating for this one!" she beamed. There was a considerable queue for one of the lounges, but Hana wasn't one to take no for an answer. Nor was she accustomed to waiting. Sym watched as she nonchalantly showed her ID to the host at the club entrance, and upon reading her name and recognizing her face gave a little bit of a start. Hana came back from the host station a moment later seeming very pleased with herself.

            "Well, we'll still have to wait a half hour, but they're prepping a VIP table for us. Let's have a little fun in the meantime!" the youngest of the group instructed, and the crew head onto the main floor of the club. The music was loud, the lights flashed, and Sym could feel the rapid beat pulsing through her body. She found it disorienting, but she tried to shove the feeling aside and dance with her friend. _I will just remain on the outskirts of the dancefloor!_ That had been her intention, at least.

            Sym closed her eyes to help minimize the impact of the flashing lights, and tried to focus on the music. Her body swayed with the tune. Her feet moved with the quick rhythm. After only a few minutes, she tried opening her eyes. She had somehow been pulled into the center of the mob, and she no longer recognized the faces around her. All she knew was she was stuck in a suffocating mass of grinding bodies with flashing laser lights, and the beat of the music made her heart race. The mixed scents of sweat, different colognes and perfumes caught up with her. She felt overwhelmed, trapped, and she didn't know where her friends where. _No! No! Not here! Not now! I need to get out! I can't breathe!_ A hand grabbed her wrist, and pulled her close.

            "Hey pretty lady! Come dance with me!" the stranger ordered. She didn't know the man. He was short, stocky, and wreaked to High-Heaven of cheap cologne.

            "No!" she snapped, wrenching her hand from his grasp, and tried to run off. She pushed through the crowd, and eventually found her way out of the mass. _I need to get out of here until this passes..._ A glowing sign pointing to the bathrooms almost felt like salvation, and she walked in. Even the bathroom was crowded, but most of the women inside were too busy primping in front of the mirrors, and Sym found the nearest empty stall to lock herself in. The stall was tiny, but at least she had walls separating herself from everything, even if she could still hear the music, and the mingled conversations of the women on the other side. Their perfumes reached her nose again, and she tried to ignore it. She touched the sides of the stall to remind herself that she was safe. That no one would walk in. That no one noticed her. A knock on the stall door shattered that fleeting moment of serenity.

            "Symmetra? Are you alright?" came Pharah's voice. _No! Not you! Why you?!_ In her haste, Sym hadn't paid attention to the faces in the bathroom, and she cursed at herself for not being more aware of the people around her.

            "I am fine, Pharah. Thank you. I will be out in a moment," Sym lied, trying to hide the panicked waver in her voice. It seemed to work, because she heard the woman leave without another word. She breathed a sigh of relief. _This is but a moment in time. It will pass._ A few minutes later, there was another knock on her stall door.

            "Sym! You okay?". It was Hana.

            "Yes. I am fine," she said, and she wondered how Hana knew which stall she was in. Hana took the empty stall next to her, and sat down.

            "Oh shoot! There's no TP in here. Sym, could you hand me some?" she asked, and Sym grabbed a fistful of paper from the roll. She went to give Hana's outreached hand the wad, but noticed there was something wrapped in plastic that her friend awkwardly shoved in her hand during the exchange under the stall wall. Sym took it, and looked. It was a pair of disposable earplugs.

            "Music's really loud tonight. Kinda' obnoxious if you ask me. I bet our table will be ready soon. It'll be more quiet in the lounge," Hana nonchalantly chatted. Though she was not a fan of “stall-talkers” Sym was thankful for the one-sided banter. Hana finished up in the stall, and Sym decided she had occupied her own for long enough. The worst of the panic had passed, and she didn't feel quite so disoriented. She stepped over to the sinks with her friend, and they proceeded to wash their hands. Sym gave Hana a discreet nod of thanks, which Hana returned.

            "Sorry. I remember you saying you liked to dance, but this probably isn't what you meant, is it?" her friend quietly apologized. Sym shook her head no.

            "Rat mentioned you don't like loud stuff. I meant to give those to you earlier, but forgot. Do you want me to call Hog? He said he'd always be an extra set of wheels if we needed it," Hana added. Sym once again shook her head no.

            "No. I do not wish to ruin the evening," she quietly admitted. There was a buzz coming from Hana's purse, and she dug through, pulling her phone out. 

            "Ah! There's the official text! Looks like our table's ready, so no worries!" she grinned, and the pair head back to the host station to wait for their group.

            The lounge itself consisted of a stylish set of couches gathered around a low table within a quiet alcove in the club's lower level. They could still hear the heavy base from the dance floor, but it was considerably more muted, and Sym felt nearly back to normal. A waiter took their drink order, and Hana talked her into trying a fun cocktail.

            "I promise I won't let it get out of control like that one time. You can stick to wine after that!" Hana had whispered, though Sym just chuckled at the irony. _How is it that the youngest one of our group is often the most responsible?_ The group picked up their conversations where they had left off at dinner, though Sym took a bit of a back seat. Three rounds later, Sym finished a full-bodied merlot, and slowly discovered that Hana was a bit of a lightweight. She leaned against Sym, who ordered her a glass of water.

            "Y'see... y'see this lady? Sheez m'friend. Besz fren. Sheez smart, an' pretty! Izzn' she?" Hana began to slur. _Oh Hana, you are very sweet, but I'm going to stop you here before you embarrass yourself!_ The other ladies let out a chuckle, and she noticed that even Pharah seemed to smirk.

            "I mean, we're all pretty, but Sym. Symz so... pretty n perfec... thaz why I'm glad you n Rat gottegther, cuz he's so funny, an' sweet, an' y'two are sooooooo perfect t'gether. M'two best frenz are all cute n...". Sym clamped her hand over Hana's mouth, though she didn't stop talking. _We don't need this turning into a discussion about my love life!_

"I thought it was rather sweet when he carried you out of the dropship. It made me think of a part I read in a book that Hog loaned me..." Angela quietly added. _Oh, Angela, must you! Also, that's Hana's book!_

"I saw you pack him meals for missions, Vaswani. I agree. Very sweet," Zarya added in. _Well, if everyone is just going to have an opinion, why don't you all just get it out?!_

            "I guess I just don't see the attraction is all. Physically, I mean," Lena piped, and Sym looked over. She wasn't particularly fond of her comment.

            "Don't get me wrong. You're a total knock-out, and he's a crack-up, but he's kinda' all... I dunno. Scrappy-lookin'!" she added. Sym stiffened a bit. Perhaps it was the wine in her, but she had finally had enough of their critiques, and needed to set Lena straight. She removed her hand from Hana's mouth, and busied herself with her empty wine glass.

            "There is far more to him than his sense of humor. He is quite intelligent, and dependable, and I actually find him to be rather handsome. Perhaps in an unconventional sense. He has a nice smile, and he is quite tall and...". Sym stopped talking when she noticed the looks of amusement, surprise, and confusion in the other faces sitting around her. They all seemed to be fixated upon Hana, who had her hands held out in front of her. She was sporting a mischievous grin. _What is she... OH MY GODS, HANA!_ Hana was, of course, disclosing a particular measurement. Taking a page from her friend's book, she reached over and caught Hana's little nose in a pinch.

            "When you are sober again, we are going to have a little discussion about just HOW you know that with such accuracy!" Sym hissed a bit louder than she had intended, and realized too late that she had inadvertently made confirmation of Hana’s generous estimate. The other ladies were in absolute hysterics, save for Pharah, who merely looked annoyed.

            "Oh my gawd, this is too much!" Lena cackled.

            "That's what she said!" Mei gasped with laughter, "Sorry Sym, I couldn't resist!".

            "Certainly explains a few things..." Pharah quipped, and Sym shrank back as deep into the couch as the cushions would allow. _Where's my phone?! I'm calling Hog!_ Thankfully, the waiter came back with their ( _final, I hope)_ round of drinks, and Sym slugged back the wine as quickly as she could allow herself.

            "Hana! I do not wish to deal with your hangover tomorrow! Drink up that water!" Angela instructed, and the girl began to do as she was told.

            "Ah! A sure-fire cure is to sweat it out, yes? Perhaps we should take her back out to dance!" Zarya suggested. Hana seemed to like that idea very much. She hopped out of her seat, and started heading back towards the main floor.

            "BRB! Imma' go shake m'money maker!" she giggled.

            "Oh, one of you had better go keep an eye on her!" Sym said, and everyone left to go find their roaming friend. Everyone, except Pharah, anyways. The silence between the two was long and awkward. It was a classic case of immovable object meets, well, another immovable object. Pharah sipped her gin and tonic.

            "You seem to be feeling better," she stated. Sym cringed internally, realizing she knew she had been lying in the restroom. She busied herself with a few sips from Hana's neglected water.

            "Your friend seemed to know what to do. I knew she would. I am no good in these situations," she admitted.

            "You sent Hana in?" Sym finally responded. Pharah nodded.

            "When Angela invited me out, I nearly laughed. Some things never change, I guess,". Sym wanted to push her for details.

            "How so?" she asked, feeling curious. Their conversation was going surprisingly well, and she noticed Pharah seemed a bit less intense a few drinks in.

            "They're still keeping the Girls Night tradition alive. When I was a child, I'd see the ladies get dressed up for a night out. They called me their little sister. I begged my mother to let me join them. I didn't know they were going to bars, of course. I just assumed my mother was being mean. Well... here we are. Despite her orders, I joined Overwatch, and here I am out on a real Girl's Night," Pharah explained. A knot began to form in Sym's stomach, and it felt incredibly familiar. It felt like guilt. Overwatch was Pharah's home and family first. She was the intruder.

            "Pharah, I wish to apologize for earlier this week. I was rather unkind to you," Sym started. Pharah interrupted her with a rich throaty laugh.

            "Ah, Vaswani, don't do that. You are above apologizing to somebody who has been... well... a bitch. I do not accept it," she said, taking another sip. _That's... that's not how it's supposed to go!_

            "Well... well too bad! It is given. Take it!" Sym snipped, and Pharah only laughed some more.

            "Ah, look at you, ordering me around. You know, I am so used to people listening to my command. It is almost refreshing to have the tables turned...". _I suppose I could see that._ "... particularly from a woman like you,".

            Sym paused, and replayed the last sentence in her head. Perhaps she read too much into it, but Sym noticed an odd look in her eye. _Is she mocking me?_ The smirk at the corner of Pharah's mouth said yes, but her relaxed stance said something different. She couldn't quite place it. _If she is, then so be it. I will be the bigger person here._

            "A woman like me apologizes when she has been rude, and tries to make amends. Perhaps we may even see each other as friends soon," Sym offered again. Something seemed to change in the look on Pharah's face. It was subtle. Almost undetectable.

            "And a woman like me now knows where she stands. I accept your apology, and offer one of my own for my rudeness. I am sure we will indeed come to see each other as friends,". A waiter made one final check, and Pharah ordered another gin and tonic. Wanting to see what that was like, she ordered the same. Their drinks came back momentarily, and Pharah clinked her glass to Sym's.

            "To Girls Night!" she said, and Sym took a sip. _Oh... oh this drink is horrible!_ , though she made the effort to drink as much of it as she could stomach so as to appear polite.

            The rest of the group returned towards the end of their drinks, and decided it was a good time to leave. Hana had somehow gotten her hands on a couple of shots, and she had grown to a point in her drunkenness where she was dizzy, emotional, and felt guilty. She used the car ride home as a confessional.

            "M'sorrry Sym! Didn mean t-t make ya uncumverble! Z'jus... wull, remember' win th'guys wen out? I wen t'yer room t'give ya yer book, buh you didn answer th'door. It wuz Rat. He wuz all hungover, an' didn have pants on, an' I saw hiz Junker junk an'...". Sym slapped her hand over Hana's mouth, silencing her friend's drunk confession.

            "HANA! Just... just rest. It's alright. I'm not actually mad," she said, gently pushing Hana's head onto her shoulder.

            "Wur sisters, right? Ya said so! Remember?" Hana wailed.

            "Yes dear, we are sisters," Sym agreed, and awkwardly patted Hana's head in an effort to soothe her.

            "Good! Iluvyuuuu, Sym!" Hana wailed some more. _Oh you poor pitiful thing!_

            "I love you too, Hana,". Angela gave a weary sigh as they pulled into the hangar.

            "I suppose I'm going to be seeing her in the med bay tomorrow," the doctor muttered. _Thank gods we are home! I am quite ready for this night to be over!_ The hangar was not entirely empty. Junkrat was shirtless, and crouched over Hana’s Meka, finishing up the last bit of the repairs to the jammed gun-arm. He stopped what he was doing, and waved as the van pulled in to park. The doors opened up, and Hana went bolting out. She managed to make it all the way to the wash station before vomiting profusely into the sink. Sym tried to catch up to aid her friend.

            "Safe t'say you lot had fun?!" he giggled as he stood up. Sym held Hana's hair back, but had to look away from the mess. _Oh, we just HAD to have seafood tonight, didn’t we?!_

            "Oh yeah! Tonight was a real learnin' experience!" Lena snickered as she climbed out of the back. _Lena!_ Junkrat raised an eyebrow.

            "Alright?" he replied, utterly perplexed as to why he was getting weird looks as the group climbed out of the van.

            "I think Hana's got the measure of things...". _Mei!_

            "I'm not one to break confidentiality, though I suppose I can at least confirm the findings,". _ANGELA!_

            "I am not familiar with the subject matter, but apparently it's a big deal,". _ZARYA!_

            "Symmetra seems satisfied with the results,". _Oh, oh Pharah! You choose now to chime in?!_ The crew left the hangar, leaving a flustered Sym and a befuddled Junkrat to take care of a queasy Hana.

            "What th'fuck are they talkin' about?" he finally ventured, while scratching his head. Sym grasped at anything to change the subject, but Hana, still feeling the need to confess her sins while bent over the edge of the sink, piped up.

            "They're talkin' 'bout yer dick!" and she proceeded to heave the final contents of her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright sweet babies! I'm bringing the drama train back to station!


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sym still feels guilty for letting certain secrets slip, and Junkrat is determined to let her know there's no hard feelings. Sym deals with the aftermath of a less-than-positive conference call.

            Junkrat had felt restless the night before, as Sym had been out with her friends. He decided a bit of work wouldn't be a bad idea, so he grabbed the bits and casings she had replicated, and hunkered down in the hangar to finish repairing Hana's Meka. He hadn't anticipated the project to take as long as it did. Nor did he anticipate to still be in the hangar when they returned.

            Suddenly he heard the sounds of the minivan pulling in, and he waved a greeting. The doors opened, and Pipsqueak came bolting out, only to puke in the nearest sink. The ladies came out one by one quipping little cryptic remarks while giving him weird looks, and he just assumed it was some joke you just needed to be there to understand. And then he found out why they were all giggling, and Sym's face had turned so so so red.

            "I'm sorry!" she repeated about five hundred times while hiding underneath the covers of her bed. He merely laughed as she recounted the story of a very drunk Hana disclosing some rather sensitive information, and how she, in an effort to put a stop to it, only confirmed the rumor. She woke up the next morning, and continued to apologize.

            "It was not my intention to gossip in such a manor, and start rumors!" she quietly admitted.

            "Y'know, it ain't really a rumor when it's true. 'Sides, these are th' kinda' problems most blokes would want ta' have!" he chuckled. She still had the blanket pulled over her head, unable to look at him. _You ain’t comin’ out? Guess I’m goin’ in!_ And so he dove under the blankets as well, and ran his hand up her thigh. He coaxed her legs apart, and started to work his magic with his fingers. He wanted to show her that he accepted her apology the best way he could.

            "Jaime... Jaime that's amazing! Don't stop!" Satya breathlessly moaned after nearly a half hour of stroking, teasing, and probing.

            "Ain't plannin' on it!" he grinned, as he slid another finger in, and crooked it in a "come-hither" motion. His thumb rubbed gentle circles on her tight knot, and her hips bucked in response. She was so wet, so warm, and it was a great way to start the morning.

            "Don't stop. Don-don't..." and her train of thought ended with a soft cry of ecstasy. He kissed her forehead as her breaths slowed.

            "Told ya', love. No hard feelins," he smirked.

            "That feeling against my hip says otherwise," Satya smirked in kind. He let out a hearty chuckle.

            "Fuckin' Christ I love ya!". She gave a small shudder as the last waves of her climax ebbed, and the embarrassed blush on her face was replaced with a relaxed smile.

           "Like I said, apology accepted," he murmured against her ear for good measure. Her hand smoothed down the length of him, and gently curled around his cock.

            "Are you sure? I feel like I still need to make it up to you..." she purred as her hand worked up and down in smooth strokes. His breath caught in his throat.

            "Well... s'pose I could use one more apology," he said. Satya's head lowered, and suddenly her lips were around the tip of his cock. She gave the lightest suck, and his breath hissed out of him. _Oh what a beautiful mornin'!_

            He always prided himself on the nimbleness of his tongue, and the things he could do with it. Satya, however, could give him a run for his money. She ran up and down the length of him, and bathed him in warmth and wetness. And the suction! Dear god, the suction! _How?! How d'ya do that?!_ He wound his fingers through her dark hair as she sucked and licked and lathered and explored. She kept at her steady work for some time.

            "Christ, don't stop!" he exhaled, using her own words from a few minutes ago. She began to gently squeeze and massage what hung below, and he tightened in response. He could already feel himself growing close.

            "Fuckin'... fuckin' I dunno what yer even doin' but don't stop!" he ordered, and the pressure within him began to build. His toes curled as he ground his foot into the mattress.

            "Ff-FUCK," he shouted as he unloaded in her mouth. It didn't slow her down one bit. When she finally pulled away, not a single pearly drop remained. After all, she was never a person to leave her work space without cleaning up first. He stared at the ceiling in the throes of a post-orgasm stupor when a hard pound hit the wall. It sounded like a fist.

            "I'm too fucking hungover for this shit!" Hana's muffled voice echoed. Sym hissed an annoyed growl.

            "Serves you right!" she quietly snapped under her breath.

            "Oi! None a that! She took care a you lot when you were all runnin' amok, remember?". She crossed her arms in front of her, but conceded to his reminder.

            "Yes, I suppose that's true. I just don't like them thinking that's the only reason we're together," Sym grumbled.

            "Don't matter what they think, s'long as yer happy,". Sym’s face transitioned back from one of annoyance to a smile, and laced the fingers of her good hand with his.

            "In this, at least, I can say I am," she said, and kissed his cheek. Her tablet started to chirp, and she let out yet another annoyed grumble as she grabbed it.

            "Oh, Sanjay, give it a rest!" she hissed, reading the message. She sat the tablet back on her nightstand, and reluctantly crawled out of bed.

            "Don't that piece a shit know it's yer bloody day off?!" Junkrat harrumphed. She let out a dejected sigh as she started grabbing clothes out of her closet.

            "Only Overwatch values the importance of time off. Vishkar sees it as a begrudging necessity. But I shouldn't be long. He says he just needs to go over something with me before he heads back to London," Sym answered, and began to dress.

            "Yeah. S'pose I'll just meet ya downstairs at lunch then?". Sym nodded.

            "Yes, that sounds like it should work," she agreed, and plaited her hair into a braid. She brushed her teeth, and followed that with a couple spritzes of perfume. She inspected herself in her mirror to make sure she looked presentable enough for her conference call, kissed him farewell, and stepped out of her room.

            He spent the later part of the morning outdoors enjoying the pleasant weather watching Hog practice his hook shot on some test bots. Eventually, Reinhardt and Torb came to watch, and the pair found it to be a rather interesting technique. Both found that they wanted to try, and Hog obliged. The hook was far too big for the shorter Torbörn to properly swing, though he said he'd be interested in fashioning one more his size. Reinhardt took to it rather quickly, and seemed to enjoy it.

            "Wunderbar! It is a novelty to bring ze fight to you, rather zan ze other way 'round! Makes me vant to go fishing again!" the bearded giant roared after hooking yet another bot. Reinhardt ran back to the armory, and came back a bit later with his hammer, so that Hog could try. The hefty Junker shouldered the hammer with both hands, gave a mighty swing, and smacked the ground with an earth-shaking thwack. Both Junkrat and Torb toppled to the ground.

            "I could get used ta this!" Hog rumbled a deep laugh.

            "Ha! Ve should ask Vinston to svitch places sometime!" Reinhardt said, and clapped Hog on the shoulder. Junkrat turned to Torb.

            "Ever think maybe we should swit..."

            "Not a chance, twiggy," Torb cut in, ending Junkrat's comment. The foursome left the test field and head in for lunch. Junkrat pulled a few items for Sym so she wouldn't miss out, and took a seat with Hog. Most of his food was finished before he saw her. He just happened to look up from his sandwich mid-bite to see her walk in. In an instant, his smile dropped to worry. She was briskly walking straight to him. Her jaw was clenched, and everything about her was stiff and awkward. He hadn't seen her like that in quite some time. 

            She didn't say a word as she approached the table. She just stepped up, grabbed his hand, and tugged him out of his chair. Hog looked up from his food, and stared at the two. Junkrat immediately got out of his seat, and silently let her pull him out of the mess hall. Mei saw the pair leaving in such a state, and he heard her as she turned to Lena.

            "What's going on?" Mei whispered.

            "Dunno'! I saw her in a meetin' just a bit ago!" Lena whispered back. _Oh no! Oh Nononono! This... this can only mean one thing!_ Sym kept walking with her hand firmly clasped around his. She never looked back at him. He didn't bother to ask where they were going. He was fairly certain she was using the silence to build up strength. A small voice piped up. _Well, who knows?! Maybe it's just good news?_ That voice was shoved back a moment later by reality. Y _a know it ain't, mate._ They arrived back at her room within minutes. The door had barely hissed shut behind her before she turned to him and began sobbing. _They're takin' ya away from me..._

            "I have to go back," she said after sucking back another sob and steadying her voice. Her face was buried in his chest, and her arms were wrapped tightly around him.

            "I figured... Christ Satya, don't go! Just quit! We'll figure it out later, but don't let 'em take ya’!" he murmured, burying his face in the top of her scalp. She took in another deep breath to steady her voice.

            "I may not be gone all that long. They want me back to oversee the completion of a project I had started before joining the Recall. Once it is complete, I might be able to negotiate my way back over here," she explained, her voice wavering.

            "Might?" he responded, and he found his throat grow tight, and his own voice began to waiver.

            "Yes. It makes sense for me to complete the project I had started. I accept that much. I think perhaps... if I work hard, they will be more likely to acquiesce to my request to return. It has worked to my benefit before. I am very skilled at negotiating," she explained.

            "I don't doubt it, but what if they still say no?" he asked. Sym looked up. She didn't seem to have a real answer.

            "I... Let us cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, I will do what I can to curry favor," she replied, and swallowed hard.

            "How long will it be t'finish up the project?" he asked. There was no point pressing her further to leave. Her mind was set at the moment.

            "The Tranquility Project is set to be completed at the end of this year, so at least it won't be for very long," she informed. The name sounded dubious to him, though at least there was a possibility that she'd only be gone for a little over a month.

            "What's so bloody important they gotta' take ya' away from me, an' fly ya back ta India?!" he asked in a quiet growl. He gripped her tighter, as though it would somehow keep her from leaving.

            "I will be in London, actually. The British government contracted Vishkar to design a state-of-the-art mental health care and research facility. It is to be the largest in the world, and treatment and stay will be completely free to all patients," she answered. _Of course it'd have ta be the most noble fuckin' cause on th'planet!_ He wanted it to be something sinister. He wanted to justify the dread in his stomach and the fire in his veins.

            "Satya... I can't stop ya, but please... don't let 'em suck ya' back in. If they don't let ya come back, just... just," he started. She placed a finger on his lips to pause him.

            "If I quit to come here, they will pull funding. I cannot destroy this place. Not when it is home to so many," she said, pulling her finger away from his mouth.

            "AND YOU'RE MY HOME!" he gasped. Her grip tightened for a moment as her breath caught. She pulled her arms away, and wrapped them up around his neck instead. She brought him down, rested his chin on her shoulder, and smoothed his hair.

            "It’s only until the end of the year. I promise you. Only until then," she whispered. His heart ached, and for a moment, it felt like somebody was sticking a hot knife through it. _They're not gonna let ya back! I know they ain't. Yer too smart ta not know it. Unless yer lyin' t'yerslef!_ He wanted to say all those things, but he didn't.

            "Yeah. Just a few weeks... no sweat, right?" he said instead, and forced the most pitiful chuckle he could. A thought struck him.

            "...and if it turns out more, me an' Hog'll... fuck, we'll just leave! Never been t'India! We can lay low, an'...", but she covered his mouth again.

            "No! Jamison, don't you dare! You cannot leave them! Talon is growing bolder. There are rumors of Omnic uprisings... They need you two far too much, and it is not safe for you to be out on your own. Not with that bounty still looming," she warned. _I don't give a shit ‘bout that!_ But he did. In the back of his mind lingered the worry of not only bounty hunters, but those who hunted him for what he found those years ago in the Omnium. Overwatch provided a sense of protection and security, and leaving them meant leaving that behind as well. His worries were set aside when he felt her shudder in his arms.

            "I need to lie down for a moment. Please. This is all starting to overwhelm me the longer I think about it," she finally admitted. He helped her back into bed and curled up around her. They lay in silence for several minutes, and he kept stroking the back of her head in an effort to soothe her.

            "When d'ya leave?" he finally asked.

            "Wednesday..." she whispered.

            "Then we ain't leavin this bed until then,".

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            Wednesday morning came by far too quickly for Sym's liking. She didn't want to go, but what choice did she have? Sanjay had called. Geet was also no longer with the company. There was no one else who could do the job as well as she. She had designed the Tranquility Center, and so she was the most logical choice. The final stages were incredibly crucial, after all. The Anti-Omnic protests had pushed construction back on several occasions, and there were worries that they wouldn't be ready by their deadline. Extension was not a possibility, for that would be an imperfection, and Vishkar wouldn't allow that to taint their image. On top of everything, Sanjay had made hints that she could return after the project was complete.

            "I greatly appreciate you returning. When you successfully finish the center, I'm sure you will be rewarded as befits your station." he had told her. Rewards typically meant favors. _Perhaps, if I play my cards right, I can negotiate a more air-tight contract!_  

            She walked into the hangar while pulling her rolling suitcase along behind her. She had chosen to travel light. She seemed to be packed more for a vacation than an extended stay. _I will only be gone for a few weeks!_ It was a mantra she repeated to herself regularly over the last few days. Hana was waiting for her, along with Hog and Junkrat (the latter two volunteered to be her ride to the airfield). Hana handed her a small gift box as Hog strapped her suitcase to the back of his bike.

            "I know... I know you're only going to be gone a few weeks, but I thought you'd want these!" she said, holding the box out. It was wrapped in lime green paper with a silver bow. Sym opened the box, and discovered there were a couple picture frames inside. The first one was hot pink, and the picture inside was the image from her first Girls Night of her and Hana locking pinkies. The second was a silver heart-shaped frame with a picture of her and Junkrat. She wasn't sure when the picture was taken, but it was a candid shot from one of their missions. Sym was sitting up on a counter on the dropship, and Junkrat was leaning against it. He had apparently said something funny, because he was laughing hysterically, and she was covering her face, though she could still see her smile peeking through.

            "Thank you, Hana. They're wonderful," she said, and gave her friend a hug.

            "Make sure to keep an eye on them," Sym jokingly whispered, thumbing over to Hog and Junkrat. Hana snickered, and stepped back so Sym could finish getting ready to leave. She quickly tucked the picture frames into her suitcase, and Hog did up the last strap to secure it.

            "Ready love?" Junkrat asked as she approached the sidecar. She reluctantly nodded, and he hoisted her over the side, sitting her on his lap. He held her tight against him as Hog revved the engine. She didn't flinch at the sound. She had far too much on her mind to even register the noise.

            They approached the private airfield much quicker than she had expected, or perhaps time just distorted simply because she didn't want to go. She slowly climbed out of the sidecar as Hog undid the straps binding her suitcase. He brought the luggage over, and sat it at her feet. Without a word, he bent down, and scooped her into a bone-crushing hug. Hog sat her back on her feet, and she took in a deep breath to refill her lungs. She gave him a nod, and turned to Junkrat. Their embrace was soft, and she held on as long as she could.

            "I love ya, Satya," he whispered.

            "I love you, too, Jaime," she whispered back, and she could feel him shudder.

            "It's only a few weeks," she reminded.

            "Yeah... a few weeks," he repeated, but the slight croaking in his voice said he didn't believe it. She kissed him, grabbed the handle to her suitcase, and walked towards the private plane Vishkar had sent. _A few weeks. Only a few weeks._

_...I promise..._


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sym is gone, and Rat is having a difficult time handling it.

            Junkrat watched in the distance as her plane took off, and vanished into the clouds. He remained silent the whole time. Hog nudged his shoulder, and tilted his head towards the bike. It was time to head back to the watchpoint. He didn't say a word the entire ride back, which seemed to take forever. Upon returning, he went right to the workshop. It was still a workday after all, and with an upcoming mission in two days, the team couldn't afford the luxury of giving him time to himself. It was probably for the best. He wasn't prepared to handle it all just then, and work was always a brilliant distraction.

            Her work and materials never took up much space in the workshop, but somehow the absence of her physical presence seemed like a gaping hole in the room. He decided to lie to himself. _It's just like any other day. Like she's in a meetin' or workin' in the hangar._ Pretending that she was still there in some aspect helped considerably, though he noticed Torb sneaking glances at her empty chair and letting out deep sighs before turning back to his own projects. _He knows it, too. She ain't comin' back._ Junkrat didn't bother coming down to dinner, even after Torb cleaned up his own mess, and head towards the door.

            "Ye stickin' round fer long?" Torb asked, leaning in the doorway. Junkrat shrugged.

            "Probably. Gotta' restock f'friday. Pile's a bit low," he mumbled, not looking up from the grenade he was working on. Torb left without another word, but three hours later Hog came up with a plate in his hand, and sat it on Sym's portion of the table.

            "Not there," was all Junkrat responded with. Hog let out a rumble that was probably supposed to be a sigh, and nudged the plate closer to his end of the table.

            "She told me t'make sure ya' eat," Hog informed. Junkrat let out a strained breath. _Course she would!_ He just kept working, and Hog stood silently by him. After a few minutes, it became apparent that his bodyguard had no intention of leaving until the plate was clear. He put his tools down, and wiped his hands on his pant legs. His project was shoved aside, and he pulled the plate over. He wasn't particularly hungry... or maybe he was? If he were to be honest with himself, he couldn't really tell, but he grabbed a fork, and tucked in. _She wants me t'eat? Then I'll fuckin' eat!_

            "She also said t'make sure ya sleep," Hog responded after the plate was clear, and he grabbed his tools and casings to set back to work.

            "Piss off..." Junkrat growled. That was not to Hog's liking. He pulled the screwdriver out of Junkrat's hand, and wheeled him away from the table. A quick spin of the chair had him facing Hog, who stared at him through the glassy black pools of his mask.

            "It aint like ya t'give up so easily. Stop mopin'!" Hog snarled. The black cloud that had settled into Junkrat’s brain finally started to show itself.

            "What's th' fuckin' point?" he hissed under his breath. Hog grabbed him by the shoulders, and hoist him up so they were eyelevel.

            "Yer actin' like the whole fuckin' world fell apart, even though there's a chance she can come back, ya' fuckin' knob! Don't want her comin' home only t'tell her I let yer sorry ass waste away f'no fuckin' reason!" he snapped back, giving Junkrat a bit of a shake.

            "We both know she ain't comin' back, mate,". _There. I said it. I said it, an' we both know it's true._ Hog slowly put him down on his feet.

            "Don't matter. I made her a promise, an' I'm stickin' to it. Least you could do for her is fuckin' try," Hog bristled, and took in a few heavy breaths to steady himself. He then proceeded to spin Junkrat around to face the door, and shoved him forward.

            "Alright! Christ!" Junkrat growled, and head out of the workshop. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and trudged through the corridors. Instinct and habit took him right to her door without even realizing where he was going. It wasn't until he fished her keycard out of his pocket that he realized what he was doing. He stared at the card in his hand. She had left it behind for him in case he wanted to sleep in her room instead. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to it. Not at that moment, anyways. He slipped the keycard back in his pocket, and head back to his own messy hovel, where he spent the whole night lying awake.

            Hog woke him up (or rather, reminded him it was morning), and followed him down to the mess hall. After eating, which he admitted helped, it was back to work to pack up for the next day's mission. As he loaded crates into the back of the ship, he heard the sound of Hana's stomping Meka. She walked right through the open door, and proceeded to position it over its stabilizing floor clamps. The back panels opened up, and she hopped out.

            "Tomorrow is going to be great!" she beamed, and he shot her a glare in warning. She began to secure the clamps at the feet of her vehicle, never noticing the aura of gloom and doom that he had surrounded himself with.

            "Yeah, f'you maybe. You get ta’ go off an' be a celebrity distraction while the rest'a us get our tits blown off!" he snipped. Hana merely giggled.

            "We're gonna' be in Hanamura! Talon wouldn't be stupid enough to attack so publically!" she reminded. He didn't immediately respond. At the end of the day, he didn't really give a shit about the mission.

            "Oh! And I got some cool news! Keep it on the down-low, but Lucio is joining the team!" she beamed. _Yeah, 'cause that's what I wanna' hear!_

            "What 'bout Vishkar? They hear that shit, we can kiss this place g'bye!" he snipped some more, hoisting another crate in place. _Course, if that happens, I can just go find Sym. Have'ta lie low indefinitely, though._

            "That's what I mean by 'on the down-low', Rat! Since Sym's away for the next month, there's no one to report back to Vishkar! Bonus points for the fact that they're going to be paying his salary, and not even know it! Of course it's only going to be temporary. Once Sym comes back, he plans on heading back to Brazil," she explained.

            "Guess he should plan ta stick ‘round, then. She ain't comin' back," he flatly stated. Hana looked up from the clamp she was working on, and she shook her head.

            "What? No! She... she said she was only going to be gone a few weeks! She just needed to finish up that project in London, right?" Hana asked, and it seemed more like she was begging him to agree with her. He realized only then that either Sym had lied to her, or she was lying to herself.

            "She said she's gonna' come back, but you know that place. Fuck, yer the one who told me 'bout them in th’first place! Ya’ really think they're gonna’ let her come back?" he replied. Hana shook her head in confusion at first, but took in a breath, and stood up. Her fists clenched into little fists, and she took a wide stance of determination.

            "Yes! Yes, they will! Because Sym is smart, and she'll figure it out! She told me she’d only be gone until the end of the year, and that's how it's going to be!" she said while crossing her arms in front of her, and stomping her foot in protest.

            "How come she ain't called yet? Hm? I know she would if she could. Ain't even been a day since she landed, an' that place already has her wrapped up. She flew right inta' their goddamn spider web, and I just fuckin' let her!". Hana walked up to him, and craned her neck so she could look him in the eye.

            "Give her time. Like you said. It hasn't even been a full day. You have to trust her. She said she's going to come back. She made a promise, and she's going to keep it. And if she can't, then... then... we'll go get her! Okay? Me, you, and Hog! We'll fly over there, and we'll get her! They can't stop the three of us, right?" she answered back. A strained and weary laugh escaped him. _That's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard..._ but he didn't say it. He hunched down, and pulled Hana close into a hug.

            "Yeah. That's what we'll do," he said, feigning agreement. Hana seemed to buy the facade.

            "Right! We'll figure out the details later. For now, we wait for her to finish the project!" she said, never losing an ounce of determination. He let her go, and she went back to clamping down her Meka. He left the hangar shortly after, and went to grab the last load of crates from the workshop. Hog waited for him again to make sure he ate dinner, and it was there in the mess hall when he finally got the first bit of news of Sym. Pipsqueak came bolting in with her phone in hand, and tugged at his sleeve.

            "RAT RAT RAT!" she chattered, practically hopping in place. He wasn't quite ready for that level of energy, and it threw him for a loop.

            "What what what?" he shot back, befuddled.

            "Sym left me a voicemail! I didn't see the call until just a bit ago! Listen!" she instructed, and handed him the phone. The mess hall was full, and the crowd was boisterous. He wanted to hear her in perfect detail, and he knew that wouldn't be possible with the commotion around him. He got up, stepped out of the room, and head into a vacant corridor. Hana and Hog were right behind him. Hana reached over, switched the call to speakerphone, and played the message. Sym's voice came out loud and clear.

            "Greetings, Ms. Song. It is Symmetra. I landed in London without issue, and have taken temporary residence at the Lorenshire hotel. As you no doubt are aware, I am to oversee the final stages of a Vishkar project, which has unfortunately fallen behind schedule. I am here to catch the company up, and as such, I will not be able to take personal calls on my own phone. However, if you, Winston, or anyone from the Recall team need to ask me a question in my absence, please feel free to leave a message at the number from which I am currently calling. It is the number to my hotel room. I cannot guarantee that I can always return the messages, due to my busy schedule, but I will try to the best of my abilities. I hope the rest of the day finds you well. Please say hello to the rest of the staff for me,". The message stopped, and Junkrat scratched his head. Her tone was cold, and formal. It reminded him of when he had first started, before she came out of her shell.

            "Doesn’t sound right. What’s she tryin’ ta say?" he asked, while continuing to scratch his head.

            "I think she's being cautious. Covering her steps. Like, didn't it sound all business-like? Maybe she's worried they might listen in? That would explain why she's asking us to call her hotel room. Vishkar probably wouldn’t be able to keep tabs on her hotel messages, I’d imagine," she pointed out. It seemed to make sense, though the fact that would be a worry was, well, even more worrisome.

            "She's gonna’ have'ta keep ya secret, Rat. You too, Pipsqueak. She can't risk 'em findin' out about ya’ two. Gives 'em leverage. Somethin' ta use against her," Hog said. He knew Hog was right. That was exactly the sort of shit a Suit would do, and Vishkar was the embodiment of everything they hated about Suits.

            "But I think she's still tryin' ta let ya know she's okay. So keep callin' her. Let her know yer there. She's gonna' need that, but don't expect her t'be able ta call ya back. Too risky. Can ya do that for her?" Hog asked. Junkrat nodded.

            "Yeah. Fuckin’ 'course I can!" he answered, and it seemed to please Hog. He clapped him on the shoulder, and the weight of Hog's huge palm nearly toppled him.

            "Good man..." he replied. Pipsqueak shoved the phone in Junkrat's face.

            "Well?! What are you waiting for?! Call her! Just hit that green button!" she instructed, and he snatched the phone from her.

            "Yeah. Yeah. Gonna' go call her. Um... thanks. Both,a ya. I mean it," he rushed, and practically ran to his room. His hand shook for just a moment after hitting the call button, and it occurred to him that he didn't even know what he was going to say. Should he pretend to be in good spirits? Like nothing was wrong? The phone rang four times, and then went to a pre-recorded voice message. There was a beep that signaled him to start talking.

            "Um... hey Sym! Got yer message. Glad ya got t'London in one piece. Um... hope it's nice there. Not much goin' on here, so, y'know, feel free t'call us whenever yer bored or somethin'. Probably won't have time, though, I guess. Ya sound busy, but, I dunno. I guess I'll just be here then, so, ya know where t'find me. Er, us, I mean. Bye Sym!" he said, trying to keep his voice from wavering, and ended the call. _Aw Christ, I probably sound like a fuckin' knob!_ Yes, the message he left was nothing remotely close to what he actually wanted to say, but at least he had a way to talk to her, even if the conversation turned out to be one-sided.

            He felt considerably better after the phone call. Enough so that he actually hoped he'd finally be able to sleep. Unfortunately, he was wrong. It became another night of staring at the ceiling while his brain ran in every direction. _She's alright. She might actually be able t'pull this off! Only a month or so. I can handle that. Hope I can sleep soon. Fuck! We got th'mission t'morrow! I need t'sleep! I can sleep on the ship, I s'pose. Wish I had a phone so I could call her whenever. Maybe I should get one! How do I get one? Could nick one in Hanamura. Wait... would that mean I'll need ta learn t'speak Japanese t’make the phone work? Allz I know how ta say is 'another beer' and 'where's th'toilet?'. ...Maybe I should learn t'speak Japanese. Naw. Naw, if I learn anythin', it'll be Sym's language! ...fuck, it's gonna be a long month!_

            Part way through the night, he grew bored of staring at the ceiling, so he grabbed the small box off of his nightstand, and took out the little mice she had made him. He sat them on the floor, and hunched down next to them. Propping himself up against the side of the mattress, he reached over and turned them on. They each came to life, and started skittering around. He noticed that each of them had their own unique pattern of movement. Jamison Jr. would run around in unpredictable paths, twisting and turning. Deuce would always curl in a slow figure-eight sort of movement, and Lil’ Trina would skitter in a straight line, turn, and skitter back. It was entertaining to watch the blue mice "explore". Occasionally, they'd bump into each other, or get stuck, and he'd pick them up to move them. 

            An image of Sym as a child playing with them by herself came to mind. The thought came out of nowhere, and it broke his heart all over again. _They caned her. They caned her f'tryin' t'make people smile..._ A shudder escaped him. _That’s the sort’a place she had t’go back to. The kinda’ place that breaks ya’ down. Almost like Junkertown._ He reached over, tapping each of the mice to turn them off, and packed them back in their box-bed. _Please_ _be careful, Satya. Don’t let ‘em break ya’ again._

            Morning came, and once again Hog collected him. The crew hastily wolfed down quick breakfasts before doing a final pre-mission check. Once in the air, they proceeded to mill about the ship. Flights often took a while, and so most of the crew seemed to turn to their own personal past-times to ease boredom or jitters. There were books to read, and tablet screens made ready for anyone who wanted to use them. Hana zoned out with some video games on a handheld device. Jesse took to whittling away at a stick. No one seemed to mind, because he always made sure to clean up the wood shavings. _Maybe I should try callin' Sym again._ He approached Hana quietly, and waited for her to pause her game.

            "Phone?" she asked, after giving him one quick look. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward.

            "Um, yeah... if that's alright. Kinda' hopin' t'get another call in," he said. Hana reached into a messenger bag, and pulled out her phone. She started tapping away for a moment, and he couldn't quite make out what she was doing. After a moment, she handed the device to him. She had set the background to a picture of Sym.

            "Might as well hang on to that for a while. Now that Lucio is joining, I won't need it to text him," she explained, giving him a soft smile.

            "Thanks, love," he smiled back, and head down into the cargo hold to speak in private. He dialed, and once again got the pre-recorded message.

            "Um, hey Sym! Rat again. Goin' on a mission t'night, so if ya try callin' might miss us... ya ever been t'Japan? Just wonderin'. Great place. Food's th'best. 'Specially in Osaka. Maybe when ya get back, we can go sometime! Think I still owe ya dinner from that one time. Anyways, gotta' go. Take care!". He hung up, and felt a little better. He sat on a crate for a moment, and listened to the rhythmic hum of the dropship engines while gazing at the image of her. It was lulling, and he could finally feel exhaustion tugging at the edges of his eyes. He let out a jaw-cracking yawn as somebody came down the steps.

            "Goodness! Don't start that, else the whole crew will start yawning!" Angela jokingly chided.

            "Sorry. Didn't really sleep much," he admitted. Angela peered at the dark circles under his eyes.

            "Yes, I can see that. Are you feeling alight?" she asked, and he gave her a quick nod. She paused for a moment, and folded her hands in front of her.

            "We don't often realize it, but separation from those we care for can often be difficult for both the mind and the body to process. I urge you to stay on top of your health. It may not seem like it, but it will actually help tremendously with combating any stress," Angela explained.

            "Oh, yeah, I'll be alright. Thanks though," he replied. Angela seemed at least a little appeased, and went over to find one of her medical supply bags. She dug out a bottle of cough syrup.

            "There we are. How silly. So many advancements in medical knowledge and technology, and yet, we still can't get rid of the sniffles! Good thing Mei is going to be part of the decoy team!" she chirped, and head back up to the main level. Junkrat went and found a blanket and pillow in the supply closet, and found a padded bench to stretch out on. He took one last look at the phone before exhaustion overtook him, and he finally managed to drift off.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew is on a mission in Hanamura, and Junkrat, Jesse, and Roadhog have to serve as a distraction. Junkrat decides he isn't going to leave Japan without a katana.

            The first part of the mission in Hanamura had been relatively successful. Hana's unexpected celebrity appearance at a (mob-owned) popular arcade drew crowds en masse. There were people everywhere, creating distracting noise and chaos. It was the perfect way to temporarily sneak out a Shimada Clan whistleblower. Junkrat watched from a high perch in the arcade as the man managed to conveniently get separated from his two suit-clad partners in the thick crowd, and slipped away towards the basement stairs, where a teleporter waited for him. Hog stepped in, creating a living wall towards the top of the steps. No one would dare approach the imposing figure, despite being once again clad in the lime green bunny-logo t-shirt. One Shimada agent had walked by, giving the giant Junker a curious glance.

            "I'm D.Va's biggest fan," he said, pointing back towards the arcade entrance, where Hana posed for pictures with fans. The agent returned through the portal a few minutes later, and slipped past Hog to regroup with his partners. Junkrat watched the three begin to squabble over where the agent had gone, but he seemed to convince the other two that he thought he saw a threat to the arcade worth investigating, which turned out to be nothing. Pharah came through the portal, deactivated the base, and closed it up into a bag of heavy camera equipment. Posing as a photo journalist, she walked towards the front of the arcade, and started snapping pictures of the pro-gamer-turned-Meka-pilot. _Feels like I'm watchin' a bloody spy movie!_ Eventually, Zarya stepped in as Hana's bodyguard, and Mei, pretending to be her agent, informed her that she still had a couple guest appearances to make in Kyoto and Osaka. The distraction team managed to get out of the crowded game center, and hopped into a rented limousine. The rest of the crew head back to the cloaked dropship for a quick debriefing.

            "Our informant wasn't able to bring us the data we needed. As it turns out, the Shimada syndicate keeps their dealings with Talon on a single computer, which is stored in a hidden office in the bottom of their compound. It would have been too dangerous for him to obtain the information on his own, but he has given us the necessary pass codes and security keys to hopefully retrieve it. I'm needing to send two teams in tomorrow night. Jesse, Roadhog, and Junkrat? You three will be in the upper levels, serving as a distraction. The compound is filled with valuables and artifacts, so passing it off as a heist should be no trouble for you three," Winston began. _Hmmm... wonder what sorta’ treasure they got hidden in there. Wouldn't mind nickin' somethin' nice fer Sym. She don't have'ta know where I got it!_

            "Pharah, Lena? You two are the quickest, and quietest. I'll need you to infiltrate the office below. Once you've obtained what we need, you're to come right back. I wish I could send you with a teleporter base, but that would mean you'd have to destroy it to cover your tracks, and we only have a finite number of those at our disposal until Symmetra returns," Winston finished explaining. The two teams nodded in agreement to the plan, and the crew was dismissed for the night to unwind as they saw fit. Junkrat and Hog decided to grab a late bite at a nearby ramen shop with Hana, who had donned a green wig and fake glasses in an effort to travel incognito.

            Hog slurped away at his noodles while Hana chatted about the arcade. Junkrat kept looking at the background of his phone, not paying attention to the conversation. He was too preoccupied studying every detail in the picture. The way the light reflected off her dark hair. The way her eyes always seemed to glow. The small birthmark by her mouth. The slight curve of her smile… _Only been a few days. Christ, I miss ya’ somethin’ fierce!_

            "You going to call her again, or run the battery out just looking at her?" Hana piped, jostling him from his musings.

            "Oh! Um... ya think I wouldn't be buggin' her callin' so much?" he asked. Hana shook her head no, and it was all the confirmation he needed to hear. He hit her contact icon, and waited for it to ring. It once again went to her voicemail.

            "Hey Sym. Me again, of course! Um... mission got extended. Can ya believe that? S'alright, though. Get ta actually have fun around town a bit..." he started.

            "Hey Sym!" Hana piped, interrupting Junkrat's one-sided conversation.

            "Yeah, got Hog an' Pipsqueak with me. So I was thinkin', when ya get back, I dunno. Maybe the four’a us should go out somewhere. Y'can show Hog your claw-game skills! Win me somethin' nice! Anyways, gotta' go. Ta!". He hung the phone up, and tucked it back in his pocket.

            "Yer food's gettin' cold," Hog said, pointing at the bowl of soup in front of him. Junkrat grabbed his chopsticks, and went straight for the boiled egg.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            The old Shimada family manor still functioned as the base of operations for what was left of the crime syndicate. What became of the family that once lived there was beyond Junkrat. He never paid too much attention to those sorts of details in their briefings. The manor itself was gorgeous. Classic Japanese architecture was surrounded with pristine landscaping, and the whole place looked like something out of a storybook. Pharah managed to patch in a fake security feed to the cameras, and the five waited until the patrolling guards had cleared out of their area to scale over the walls onto the grounds themselves. The informant from the day before had given them as much information as he could regarding patrol routes, shift changes, and what paths were probably the best for sneaking around.

            Like so many of their other missions, it all really boiled down to two things. Distract and lure the enemy, and abscond with the intel. And so, the teams split off. Pharah and Lena went one direction, while Junkrat, Jesse, and Hog went another. Remaining quiet was only a necessity for the first part of the job, and Junkrat eagerly waited for the go-ahead to commence the second part. _Oh, I sure as fuck ain't walkin' outta' here without a souvenir!_

            Tapestries were nice, but too bulky, and hung too high for him to successfully remove without damaging the edges. The ornate kimonos suffered much the same issue. The vases and tea sets were fancy, but how would he manage to smuggle out something so delicate? He peeked through a crack in one of the paper-lined sliding doors, and found what he had been searching for. _Oh! Now we're talkin'!_

            The room was lined with weaponry of all kinds. Tall polearms stood along the side walls, along with axes and bows. There were two sets of Samurai armor on display, and they almost seemed to be keeping guard of a tall rack standing near the back wall. _Oh! Oh sweet babies! Ratty's gonna' take one a you lucky ladies home t'night!_ Yes, he had made his mind up. He would not be leaving without a katana.

            They peeked through one more door as they waited to hear from Lena and Pharah. It appeared to serve the opposite purpose of the previous location. There were glass display cases filled with jewelry of all kinds, and while the sparkle of metal and gems caught his eye, he noticed several mannequin heads sporting ornate wigs, and (more noticeably) delicate floral hair accessories. _Aw, bet that blue one would look nice in Sym's hair._ Yes. He had once again made his mind up. He would not be leaving without a katana, or a fancy hair comb.

            "We've gotten as far as we can, but this lower level is too well-guarded! Need that distraction!" Lena's voice hissed through their headsets.

            "On it!" Junkrat replied. He walked into the room with all of the jewelry cases, stepped up to the nearest one, and smashed it open with his metal fist. The sound of the alarm was instantaneous.

            "Well! That should do it! Thanks Rat!" Jesse grinned, and helped himself to a few of the rings inside.

            "Gotta' make it look like the real deal, right?" The cowboy added as he slipped a gaudy bauble on his pinkie. The thundering of around fifteen sets of feet could be heard echoing across the compound. Junkrat snagged a few shiny things to stuff in his pockets before plucking the fancy hair comb out of the wig. He carefully tucked that into one of his sturdier pouches so it wouldn’t get crushed.

            The trio ran into the room with all of the weaponry, and he couldn't suppress a laugh as Hog plopped one of the Samurai helmets on top of his head. Junkrat grabbed not one, not two, but three katanas. He'd decide later which one was his favorite. A giddy smile crossed his face. He'd nearly forgotten how much he loved a good heist. The thrill alone was nearly worth it, and it was always something he was rather good at.  _It's just distraction, though. Not th'real deal._ His reminder to himself triggered a moment of realization. Where were the footsteps?

            "Oi! Uh... don't ya think they shoulda' got here by now?" he asked, eyeing the partially open screen behind him, and both Jesse and Hog seemed to notice the lack of footsteps. There was a quiet ding, and without warning the wooden panels behind the katana rack slid open to reveal a hidden elevator... that was loaded with suit-clad security agents... who were all pointing guns right at them. _Well, fuck my life, I guess!_  

            The trio bolted out the room, though Hog merely smashed right through the paper and balsawood screen. Bullets whizzed far too close for comfort, and the trio decided to head off in different directions. Junkrat twist and turned down the maze of halls. The whole damn place looked all the same to him, and he had no clue where the fuck he was going. Thrill was quickly replaced with panic. Winston's words echoed in his brain. _"No bombs! The building is hundreds of years old! We can't risk damaging a historical landmark!"._ Another bullet zipped past his ear. _Oh, I just HAD ta fuckin' listen this time 'round, didn't I?!_ He reached into a pouch, and threw a flash bang instead. His ears rang, and he was temporarily blinded, but it at least gave him a moment to lose his pursuers. He could hear Hog's thundering steps not too far off, and Jesse seemed to be taunting his chasers.

            "You ladies wanna' tango? Looks like you're gonna' have to take some dancin' lessons, first!" The unmistakable sounds of his revolver fired, and Jesse let out a satisfied chuckle, while the security agents howled in pain.

            "Aw, quit yer bitchin'! Y'all can live without an arm or leg! Take it from a guy who knows!" the cowboy quipped. _Take it from a guy who REALLY knows, mate._ The four agents who had been following him had seemed to finally catch back up, and Junkrat took back to running. Their steps were close. He heard their shouts, and the sounds of them reloading clips. _Aw fuck! Fuckfuckfuck!_ He fumbled for another flash bang, but something whistled behind him, and there were shouts and scuffling, and he heard the sound of four bodies hitting the floor. He turned to look, and at the opposite end of the corridor stood something he didn't expect. Junkrat blinked a couple times to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. At the end stood a goddamn ninja! Or samurai? Or ronin? Junkrat wasn’t sure what the proper term was, but it didn’t matter, because the man raised a bow and took aim. _Well, shit! This ain't how I expected ta go!_

Junkrat turned back, and made a feeble attempt to run. He heard the twang of the bow as the man let loose. A sharp pain hit his right shoulder, as well as his ass, and the joint of his peg leg suddenly buckled, causing him to fall face-first onto the wood floor. The archer ran, jumped, did a flying somersault over Junkrat, and landed in front of his face before aiming another arrow at his skull.

            "F-fuckin' show-off!" Junkrat grunted, with his face firmly planted in the wood floor.

            "You chose a very poor night to steal from me..." the ninja said, nudging Junkrat's face up with the tip of his boot. Dark eyes glared at him. His venomous stare could almost rival Sym’s. The man's long dark hair was pulled back into a tight tail. Salt and pepper dusted his temples, as well as the center of his neatly-trimmed goatee. The sound of a revolver being cocked broke the tense silence.

            "Those are some fancy tricks ya got there, but I'm 'fraid I can't let you shoot my friend..." Jesse drawled. The ninja gave a husky laugh.

            "Won't you two feel foolish when the Overwatch agents downstairs round you two up, and turn you over to the authorities!" the man grinned. His mention of Overwatch gave Junkrat a pause. _Wait! Who's side you on?_ Jesse started lowering his revolver while laughing in kind.

            "Aw hell, pretty boy! We ARE Overwatch!"

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            "Oh good heavens! Who used Junkrat as target practice?!" Angela shrieked as Hog trudged onto the dropship with his lanky friend slung over his shoulder. Three. Three goddamn arrows had found their way into his person! One stuck out of his right shoulder, another stuck out of his right ass-cheek, and the last had gotten jammed up into the joint mechanism of his knee. His nose was broken from face-planting, and twin streams of blood trickled down to his chin.  _Fuckin' dick couldn't even let me keep ONE sword t'make up for it!_

            "That would be Hanzo Shimada," Jesse answered. Hog plopped Junkrat down onto the gurney, and he grimaced from the pain.

            "Fuck! Easy, mate!" he hissed as he rolled from his side to his belly. Angela bristled at Jesse's answer, and a noticeably fierce frown crossed her face for a moment. She bent down, began examining Junkrat's face, and tenderly smoothed his hair.

            "How could anyone hurt this poor pitiful face? Somebody should have told him not to hurt my number one patient!" she replied.

            "Aw, doc, it was terrible! Wouldn't even let me keep ONE sword! Was that too much t'ask?" Junkrat whined. Everyone else seemed to find his situation utterly hilarious, so he decided to latch onto Angela's sympathy.

            "Quit yer belly-achin'. He said y'could keep th'arrows!" Hog chuckled. Angela began to work on Junkrat's nose with one of her glowing tools. His nose began to tingle, there was an audible pop, and then his face felt slightly better. Angela quickly wiped the blood off of his nose, mouth, and chin, and muttered a few choice profanities about Hanzo.

            "I get that you don't like the man, darlin', but like it or not he saved our asses. Turns out our informant was also his personal man on the inside. The informant told him about our mission, and he came just in the nick'a'time to help create a diversion. Turns out that, even though he's renounced the family business, he still didn't want the family name to be sullied with Talon involvement. Problem was, he didn't realize we were a diversion, too. He thought we were just a trio of numb-nuts who picked the wrong night for thievery. The man ain’t that bad once you talk to him," Jesse explained.

            "Oh Jesse, you always were a sucker for a pretty face," Angela muttered under her breath so low, that only Junkrat could hear.

            "Woah! Who used Rat Boy as a pincushion?" Pipsqueak piped, peeking into the small first aid station on the ship.

            "A very nasty man! Now, here! Take this to Torb!" Angela instructed as she pulled his peg leg off, and handed it to Hana. Pipsqueak did as she was told, and ran off to find the only person who could possibly fix the damaged appendage.

            "Hm. Oh, this is quite the pickle. I'm afraid I can't heal these wounds until the arrows come out, but the heads are barbed. Hmm... Let me numb this up a bit," she said, mostly to herself. Suddenly, there was a needle in Junkrat's arm.

            "Y'know, gettin' real sick a gettin stuckughhhoh! Oh, thaz wumbaful!" he said, his words slurring, and a stupid relaxed grin spread across his face. He was pleasantly warm, and didn't feel a damn thing from his chin down.

            "The best way out, is through! Hog! Be a dear, and give that arrow a good hard shove!" Angela instructed again. Hog almost seemed too eager. There was a sickening squelch and pop, and Junkrat could see the arrowhead protruding through the other side of his shoulder. The doctor pulled it the rest of the way through, and quickly snipped his shirt off so she had better access to the wound. She grabbed a different glowing tool, and set to work. He was aware of what was going on, but it was more like he was watching it all happen while looking down from a different planet. _Wow. Feel sorry for this guy! He didn't bring a change a clothes!_

            "There! Shoulder is already on the mend! And now, well..." she said, while rolling him back on his stomach.

            "Can't push it through?" Hog grunted. Angela shook her head no, but before she could come up with a plan, Hog grabbed the arrow, and gave it a hard yank, ripping it right out of Junkrat's butt cheek with another vomit-inducing squelch.

            "HOG!" Angela shrieked, and the colossal Junker merely shrugged.

            "Worked, didn't it?" was all he grunted. Junkrat let out a giggle, oblivious to what had happened.

            "Dat zounded grooooooss! Hog! Wuz it gross?" Junkrat merrily slurred. 

            "Damn, Hog! Way to tear Rat a new asshole!" Jesse cackled. Angela let out a VERY frustrated breath, and started cutting off his denim pants. She set to work on the remaining wound.

            "Huh! I didn't know you had an ass tat, Rat!" Hana's voice drifted back in.

            "Hana! Don't you think he would like a little privacy?!" Angela snapped.

            "What? These two are already in here, and besides, it's not like I haven't already seen his dingus," Hana pointed out. That was the comment that sent Angela over the edge.

            "Out! Out out out!" the doctor snapped, shoving Jesse, Hana, and Hog away from the gurney. She then pulled a curtain around the first aid station. Junkrat planted his face firmly into the pillow while Angela finished up the last of her work. Her annoyed muttering was interrupted when Winston's elated guffaw came echoing through the dropship.

            "Folks! I just did a quick scan of the intel, and it's, well, quite the find! We still need to go through it, but this could be it! This could be what we need to get the PETRAS act repealed!". The other members on the ship began to cheer in excitement, equally elated by the surprising turn of events.

            "Hooraaaaaaaaaaaay!" Junkrat's disoriented voice drifted from behind the paper-thin curtain.


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat sits through the debriefing from the Hanamura mission, and later has a follow-up appointment with Angela. Sym's paranoia that Vishkar is watching (coupled with the intense workload) is starting to wear her down.

            "Hey Sym! Just 'bout t'head inta a debriefin'. Last mission we were on turned out better than expected. Well... not f'me so much, but Winston seems pretty happy. Earned a new nickname, by th'way. Pipsqueak's got everyone callin' me Pincushion! Unbelievable! Now she says I should add a few piercin's t'really seal it in. I mean, would look cool with my tattoos, don'cha think? Maybe a tongue stud? Lena says maybe my nip-nops, but I dunno' how I feel 'bout that one. Oh fuck! Meetin's gettin' started. Gotta' go!". Junkrat quickly ended the call, and shoved Hana's phone into the pocket of his jeans before dashing into the room. He quietly slid into the empty seat next to Hog.

            "Alright, now that Pokey Malone has made it in, we can begin!" Winston started, and the team let out a collective snicker before settling to hear what the ape had to say.

            "As you all know, the mission in Hanamura was, by all accounts, a success. We managed to extract the data we needed without compromising the identity of our informant, and as far as we can tell, the syndicate hasn't realized they were even breached. I'd like to give special thanks to our distraction team for giving such a convincing performance! Too convincing, actually, so if you three would kindly give back the few items you pocketed, I'll see that they are returned to their rightful owner," Winston continued, eyeing Junkrat, Roadhog, and Jesse. _Aw c'mon! That comb'd look better in Sym's hair! Not on some stupid mannequin, collection' dust!_

"Lena and I have gone through the data, and we have hit the mother lode! We have names of other crime syndicates working in conjunction with Talon. We have locations of bases. We have shipment schedules! Folks, this is what we've been searching for. We've found the gosh darn Holy Grail!" Winston cheerfully beamed, waving at some of the information brought up on the projection screen.

            "And ve can trust ze intel? It is not another trap, or falsified?" Reinhardt commented. It was a very valid argument.

            "The encryption they used was incredibly complex and intense. Probably took years for them to develop it, and I highly doubt they would take that amount of time to simply set a trap. It was no match for Athena's software, though," Winston answered, and there was a touch of pride in his voice.

            "Thank you for the compliment, Winston," Athena's computerized voice called over the intercom speakers. _Alright, that's just creepy! It's like we got a bloody ghost in here!_

"Also, our informant was able to confirm quite a bit of this, so I am very confident about our findings," Winston added.

            "So what are we going to do with this information? I can't imagine we can take out any of their bases on our own. We're still a very small team," Mei mentioned.

            "True. It would take a real army to take out some of their larger strongholds. Even some of the smaller ones would be too risky at our current numbers. My intention, actually, is to get in touch with some of my contacts at the UN. I've been trying to get the Petras act repealed for years, but they've told me I can't do that without physical proof of Talon's increased activity. Well, now I have it, and now we can start the process. I will not lie. This could take a while. Possibly up to a year," Winston explained.

            The news actually made Junkrat smile. Repealing the act meant Overwatch could be reinstated. If that happened, Winston could pull strings, and hopefully get rid of that nasty bounty looming over his and Hog's heads. The prospect of a clean slate was something he never thought actually possible, but there it was. It would mean a fresh start, and maybe people would stop looking at him as nothing more than a dirty criminal, and he'd be able to make Sym proud. And Sym? She had mentioned that Winston had offered her a full-time position before. She'd have to give up her hard light, which was something she was very hesitant to do, but maybe she'd consider it if it meant getting out from under Vishkar’s thumb.

            "So are we just supposed to sit on our asses and do nothing while we wait a year for the UN to get its shit together?" Jesse snipped. He wasn't a fan of the bureaucracy and paperwork involved. He always said it just muddied up the process.

            "Well, in some aspects, yes, but there are plenty of small spots we could hit. If we hit their supply chains, that could delay Talon long enough until the UN can take action. So, expect some work soon. Like I said, there's a lot of data here, so it's a matter of sifting through and researching what will be our next step. In the meantime, I'm going to get in contact with a few ambassadors. See if I can arrange a meeting of some sorts." Winston asked. Lucio raised his hand.

“Will you be presenting this information to the investors?” he asked. Junkrat wrinkled his nose at Lucio’s question. Ever since he had arrived, the pair went out of their way to avoid each other as much as possible. As such, Junkrat hadn’t seen all that much of Hana. The newcomer wasn’t exactly rude to Junkrat, but anytime they were forced to interact, he would very clearly avoid any topic pertaining to Sym and Vishkar.

            “Parts of it, yes… Eventually. I don’t intend on divulging my intentions with the UN just yet. Vishkar is rather picky when it comes to who they work with, and I wouldn’t put it past them to pull funding if they find out we may be working alongside groups they don’t approve of. Unfortunately, until the act is repealed, we’re still going to have to rely on their money, much as I don’t like it… Any further questions?” Winston asked. When no one said anything, he dismissed the team, and the crew left the meeting in the highest spirits he'd seen in a long time. Junkrat didn't get too far out of the meeting room before he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Angela looking slightly cross, and holding a tablet in his face. It was set to a calendar.

            "You skipped your appointment this morning!" the doctor scolded, pointing at the spot on the schedule that had his name.

            "Aw, c'mon, Doc! I was good the day after we got back! Don't need one more once-over!" Junkrat whined. Angela tucked the tablet back under her arm.

            "It doesn't matter what you deem necessary. I am the doctor here, and I will perform my follow-ups thoroughly!" she lectured.

            "Beginnin' t'suspect yer just tryin' t'sneek a peek at m'bum!" Junkrat teased. Angela's face turned red, but certainly not from a blush. She reached up and twisted his ear. Despite his many "ow's" of protest, she didn't let go.

            "That's quite enough of that! Now, march!" she snipped, releasing his ear, and prodding him towards her office. Begrudgingly, Junkrat followed her orders, and once inside, hopped up on the exam table.

            "Shirt off, please," she instructed, and he tugged the green shirt over his head. Angela quickly probed the nearly-faded arrow wound at the front and back of his shoulder. She flexed his arm a bit to test his mobility. Feeling satisfied, she moved over to his nose, and gave it a few quick prods to ensure it had realigned properly.

            "Alright now, pants off," she ordered. Junkrat grimaced.

            "Is this really necessary?" he asked. Though he held an odd sense of pride in sustaining such a ridiculous injury, and he usually had no problem using his ass to comedic effect, he was about ready to move on from the whole experience.

            "I promised Sym I'd take good care of you while she's gone. Oh, and there’s that whole 'being a doctor thing', you know." she smirked. Junkrat puffed a sigh, and hopped back off the table. He turned around, undid his jeans, and shimmied them down just enough so she could do a quick inspection. She bent down to examine.

            "You about done?" he snipped. Angela chuckled before standing back up.

            "Trust me. I don't want to look at that bony thing you call a posterior any more than I have to! But I assure you, that was the final time. As always, you have healed at an almost alarming rate," she replied, and made a quick note on her screen. He did up his pants, and reached for his shirt. She poked at his ribs with her stylus.

            "Now if we could just fatten you up a bit! You need to eat more," Angela quipped. He pulled his shirt over his head, and sighed.

            "Yeah, I know..." he huffed. He really had made the attempt to keep eating, but more often than not, his plates went only half-consumed as depression gnawed at his insides and turned his stomach sour. She grabbed his chin, and pulled his face down a little closer.

            "I don't like those dark circles, either. You have not been sleeping," she clucked.

            "Ain't from a lack a tryin'," Junkrat dejectedly mumbled. Every night, he'd lie in his bed, and toss and turn. Every worst-case-scenario would play out in his head if he sat there long enough. _They’re gonna’ pull her back in. I’m gonna’ get recognized one a these days. Maybe a bounty hunter will spot me… maybe Talon will realize I’m the little shit they used ta’ chase._ He had made a few feeble attempts at pleasuring himself just to get his mind off things, and also to have some form of release, but after three failed attempts, he'd given up on that as well. Whenever he did manage to drift off purely from physical exhaustion, he'd lapse into nightmares. It was difficult to remain positive, even with the good news from the debriefing. His visually-apparent sad state seemed to tug at Angela's heartstrings. She gently patted his shoulder.

            "Oh, you poor thing. I know you miss her, but she'll be back before you know it. Has she called at all?" she enquired. Junkrat shook his head no.

            "Ah, no. She left a voicemail day after she left. Said she's gonna’ be real busy. Can't really make calls," he replied. He didn't know how much Angela knew about Vishkar, and he wasn't sure where to start, or even if he should. Angela's face fell to something forlorn and worried.

            "I hope she is alright. I think that company works her too hard. Too much stress... Well! Enough of that! When she returns, I will make sure she takes a whole week off to relax! Perhaps even two. Lord knows, she deserves it!" Angela smiled, and went back to her tablet for a moment, but her eyes flicked back to his, and focused on the dark circles.

            “Junkrat… Would you consider taking a sleep aid if I prescribed you one?” she offered. Junkrat wrinkled his nose, and shook his head no. He didn’t like the idea of taking pills. He was forced to take sleep aids and several other pills for the few weeks he and Hog had been stuck in prison, and he hated the way they made him feel. He wouldn’t do that ever again if he could avoid it. Angela seemed a little upset by his decision at first, but nodded her acceptance.

            "Very well. You are free to go. Tonight, I want you to try to eat more, and before bed, I need you to drink at least one cup of chamomile tea! Oh, don't give me that face! Doctor's orders. Off you go," Angela chirped, and shooed him out of the office.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            Sym walked into her hotel room ten minutes after midnight, and she was ready for a bath. Yes, a bath was a necessity after the day she had. Or days, rather. She had barely stepped off of the plane when Sanjay came running up and started filling her in on details of the project, and construction notes. From there, it was ten days in a row of playing catch-up, and she dove head-first into the mess of paperwork and meetings upon meetings upon meetings. On a good day, she was able to sneak back to her hotel room after only ten hours on the job, but most days averaged closer to sixteen. Though not as physically taxing as missions, she found the work to be so much more draining than she had remembered.

            Before she could entertain the idea of a bath, her bed, or room service, she proceeded to do her sweep. She started in the corner near the large window, and inspected every nook and cranny in her room. She opened every drawer in her dresser and nightstand, and examined every part of her closet. She searched for any suspicious signs under her bed, before moving on to the bathroom. Having seemed satisfied, she did one last search of the hotel phones before deeming everything in order. It had been ten days of repetition, but she'd yet to come across any form of hidden camera, bug, or evidence of phone-tapping. 

            _Perhaps I am being far too paranoid._ But then she remembered the odd look Sanjay had given her when she insisted upon carrying her own luggage. Why had he even offered in the first place, though? He had seemed almost adamant about taking her suitcase up to her room for her, and checking-in in her stead. He had done so on several other jobs out of country in the past, and she had always considered it as nothing more than a polite gesture. The memory of that sent shivers down her spine. _What if he has been spying on me all this time?_ She shoved the thought aside. The fact was that after ten days, no evidence of foul play had surfaced, and she began to wonder if maybe she was overreacting to it all. She picked up the phone, and began to order room service. She hadn't eaten since her quick lunch, and was feeling utterly famished.

            "Yes. The chicken in plum sauce, please. And the tomato bisque. What are your selections in reds?... The cabernet, please. Make it a bottle. Thank you,". Sym hung up the phone, finally kicked off her shoes, and plopped face-first onto the bed. Though physically exhausted, worry kept her brain buzzing, and a knot of stress began to settle in her stomach. She reached into her nightstand drawer, and pulled out the silver picture frame. She ran her fingers over the glass. _I can do this. I have to. I cannot let them take this from me._

            Under normal circumstances, she could have possibly entertained the idea of letting him come to India. But then, Jamison Fawkes was not a normal circumstance by any stretch of the imagination. It wasn't that Vishkar was against relationships outside of the workplace. She had met several employees who were married, and even a few who had children. But she highly doubted they would approve of a Junker with a criminal record and a substantial bounty. She knew if they caught any wind of it, they'd force her to choose. Him, or Vishkar? Him, or serving the place that saved her from poverty and squalor? Him, or the ability to use hard light, and make actual changes in the world? Him, or the continuation of Overwatch? _I choose to not choose. At least, for now._ A knock came at the door. Her food had arrived.

            After eating, she placed her tray back out into the hall, and took the rest of the bottle of wine and her empty glass into the bathroom. She began to fill the tub, and tipped in some jasmine bubble solution. The suds began to form. Sym stripped down, and poured herself another glass. The bathtub was large, deep, and perfect. The window at standing eye-level overlooked a lovely view of London. Lights twinkled, and a few flakes of snow began to fall, though whether they would accumulate by morning was unlikely. The city was preparing for the holiday season, and though she herself did not celebrate Christmas, she admitted that she liked the decorations and lights none the less. 

            She peeked over at the bathroom phone. A light blinked, indicating that she had a voice message. The light on both phones had started to blink the day she had called Hana, though she had been too paranoid to check voicemails. It made her feel guilty. _I should never have called. I should have remained silent. It would have been better that way._ The tub had finished filling, and she turned the water off. She took in a steadying breath, and began to remind herself: _The room is clear. No harm will come from listening to my messages._ She slid into the warm water, and let it seep into her muscles. She reached over, and turned on the phone's speaker.

            "Um... hey Sym! Got yer message. Glad ya got t'London in one piece. Um... hope it's nice there. Not much goin' on here, so, y'know, feel free t'call us whenever yer bored or somethin'. Probably won't have time, though, I guess. Ya sound busy, but, I dunno. I guess I'll just be here then, so, ya know where t'find me. Er, us, I mean. Bye Sym!". _He is being cautious, and playing it off as friendship. He's worried they may be listening, too._  The next message started playing, and he talked about going on the mission to Hanamura that had been scheduled before she left. _Yes. Japan is quite lovely. I very much wish to go again. Perhaps in the spring to see the cherry blossoms._ There were a few more messages. One was rather confusing. His words were slurred, but from what she gathered, he had been shot in the butt with an arrow, and was heavily medicated. She shook her head and chuckled. _Only you would take an arrow to the ass, and brag about it!_ The messages continued. _Oh, please don’t get your tongue pierced… or your nipples._ There were twelve in all, and while most of them seemed positive, she noticed his voice change to something considerably forced. Finally, the last message played.

            "I know yer busy, but... fuck... never mind. I should probably stop callin' ya’ all the time,". That one cut like a knife. _Jaime... please keep calling. I miss you so much._ She drained her glass, poured another, and wiped away a few frustrated tears with the back of her hand. Yes, she missed him. Every morning, her heart would ache at her empty bed. At night, exhaustion would overtake her, but she still felt cold and lonely as she drifted off. It wasn't just him she missed. Her heart ached to see Hana, and Hog, and to work next to Torb, and listen to his grumbles. She missed nights out with the ladies, and the warm smiles of everyone on the team.  

            Warmth. That's what she missed the most. The people she worked with in London were polite enough, but being back in their presence only reminded her that Vishkar was not a place to build friendships. Between long hours, high stress, and minimal human interaction, Sym began to wonder if maybe the reason they had gone through two other project leaders was simply because they had reached their breaking points. At least she had the prospect of returning to a family that cared for her. With something to fight for came determination, and renewed ambition. _I will return. I have to._ She looked at the phone for a moment. _They are not tracing my calls. They are not bugging my room. It is safe._ In all her travels, she always found the concept of a phone in a bathroom to be strange, but at that moment, she was thankful for the strangeness. She left it on its speaker, and punched in Hana's phone number. It barely rang once before his voice piped in the bathroom. For a moment, it felt like he was standing right there.

            "Sym?!". She couldn't remember the last time he sounded so giddy.

            "Hello, Jaime," she greeted, hoping he could hear the smile in her voice. She heard a rustle from his end as he seemed to reposition himself.

            "How are you?" she asked. She suddenly felt guilty. Perhaps he was sleeping, and she had woken him up.

            "Um... fine? I guess? Um...". There was a touch of worry in his voice, and she realized he was trying to pick his words carefully.

            "The line is secure. You may speak freely," she reassured. It was as though a crack in a dam gave way. His words tumbled out.

            "Aw, Christ Satya, I miss ya so fuckin' much! I think 'bout ya every day! I can't eat. I can't sleep. Work is killin' me! Literally! Took an arrow t'my ass! Don't worry, though. Doc patched me up, so it's just as nice as y'remember. But everyone keeps callin' me Pincushion, an' Porcupine, an'...".

            "Oh Jaime... I miss you too," she said, cutting off the waterfall of blabbering he was slowly devolving to.

            "Love... I'm really tryin' t'hang in here, but I have half a mind t'nab Hog's keys an' come get ya," he admitted.

            "Oh, don't do that. Hog will ring your neck. Besides, we've already made it a quarter of the way through. We can remain strong. I'm working extra hard to finish up this project. I think this may actually work," she reassured.

            "Yeah?".

            "Yes. I asked Sanjay who he sent in my stead to keep an eye on Overwatch. He said he didn't see the point in sending somebody in for such a short amount of time. I believe he has given me a subtle hint that I will be returning after the end of the year,". It wasn't a lie. She had asked her superior only a few questions to hopefully sate her curiosity, and while his answers remained vague, that one had given her a small glimmer of hope.

            "That's great, love! Um... might have some good news here, too, actually. Turns out we may have what we need t'get that stupid whatever act overturned. Might be able t'make this operation legit! Never had a real legit job b'fore!" he said, and she sat up a little more in the tub. Repealing the Petras act meant she could quit Vishkar. But quitting Vishkar meant no hard light, and then what use would she be to Overwatch? She ran her fingers over the crystal lens in her gauntlet. _I do not know if I am ready to part with this…_ A thought struck her. Perhaps she could negotiate still being a representative for the company. Surely they would still see benefit for working alongside such a noble cause.

            "Everythin' alright, love? Got awful quiet there on yer end..." Jaime said, jostling her from her thinking.

            "Apologies. I was just lost in thought for a moment. That is indeed good news, though I assume it will be a while before we see the fruits of Winston's labor," she responded, and let out a much more relaxed sigh. She unclipped her hair, and let it tumble down.

            "So how ya' likin' London?" he asked, changing the subject. Sym let out a strained chuckle.

            "I wish I could tell you. Apart from what I see outside my hotel window, or at the construction site, I haven't had much opportunity to explore. But I finally have a day off tomorrow, so perhaps I will treat myself to food that isn't courtesy of room service," she answered. He let out a chuckle of his own, and she tried to picture his smile.

            "So... you gonna be able t'call me again t'morrow?" he asked. Sym let out a tense breath.

            "I worry. This line is secure, but I will still be charged for actual calls. If I make too many, the company will probably question it. I know I am asking much of you, but I still wish to remain cautious. I think it best if I make my calls sparing. Is that alright?" she reasoned. Jaime thought about it, and let out a sigh of his own.

            "I mean, no, not really, but I get y'wanna be careful. Think I can hang on if it means I get t'see ya after this shit wraps up," he conceded, and punctuated the response with a yawn.

            "I need you to eat and sleep as well. It is quite late over there, and you’re still awake. Perhaps you should utilize some relaxation techniques," Sym suggested.

            "Like what?". Sym lift her foot out of the water for a moment, before dropping it back down with a light splash.

            "Hmmm... exercise. Reading. Meditating. I like baths, myself. Currently in the tub right now, actually," she nonchalantly stated. There was a brief pause.

            "...oh! So that means you're..." he started, but trailed off with a slight lilt. A smile curled up across her face. _It has been far too long since I've heard that voice!_

            "Mm-hmm... would you like some help falling asleep? I could talk you through some… guided meditations." she teased. He cleared his throat.

            "Oh, I think I know where this is goin'... and I sure as fuck ain't gonna' stop ya!" he answered, and a husky growl suddenly emanated from the speaker.

            "Good... Take off your pants, close your eyes, and imagine me,".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sym will change her tune considering the tongue piercing when she learns that vibrating tongue-studs exist. ;)


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela is throwing together a care-package for Sym, and Rat is stumped on what to get her. Fortunately, Hog seems to know exactly what to do!

            It had been five days since she had called him, and the world seemed just a touch brighter. Their situation didn't seem so hopeless. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. _I think we can make it. We're gonna' pull this off!_  

            She had seemed so confident over the phone. It was wonderful. He still left her messages. She didn't get charged for those, so they wouldn't show up on her bill and raise suspicion. They could make it work. And soon enough, she was going to come home. He couldn't wait. Now, he couldn't eat and sleep for a different reason. He was too excited, and his impatience was beginning to set in. He bounced his leg incessantly under the table at breakfast.

            "Ah, there you are!" Angela called, heading towards his table, where Hog, as always, also sat.

            "I was letting everyone know that I am putting together a little care-package to send to Sym. I was planning to send it out on Friday," Angela started. Junkrat looked confused for a moment.

            "What'sa care-package?" he asked, and sipped his tea.

            "Oh! Well, that's where you pack a few nice gifts in a box, and send it to someone special who is far away, to let them know you care. I know she doesn't celebrate Christmas, but I figured she still might like a nice little surprise from everyone," Angela answered. _Oh... what th'fuck do I even get her?_ Junkrat rubbed his chin in thought.

            "You still have time to get something. Like I said, I will probably be sending it out Friday, so no rush," she replied, and left to speak with the rest of the crew. Junkrat went back to nibbling his hash browns, lost in thought on what to get her. Hog took a sip of his own tea before carefully setting the tiny cup down.

            "Ya' don't got a fuckin' clue what t'get her, do ya?" Hog observed.

            "Not even th'slightest," Junkrat answered back. _Stupid Hanzo wantin’ his stupid hair comb back! Weren’t like he was gonna’ use it! Woulda’ made this all so much easier!_ Hog rumbled a laugh.

            "S'pose I gotta' take ya shoppin', then. Meet me in th'hangar when yer done in the workshop," he instructed, and shoved his mask back down. _Oh, this'll be interestin'!_ He finished up his breakfast and head into the workshop.

            Junkrat pondered the whole way in as he tried to think of all the things he could possibly get her. _She likes the color blue, but she said she likes "all jewel tones"... whatever the hell that means. Oh! An’ peacocks. She said they're, like, sacred or somethin'... she likes ta smell nice, and take baths... don't think I can fit a bathtub in a box, though. She likes tea, but she's in London. Place is practically drownin' in it! Fuck! Why's this so hard?_ He clicked the switch, and the workroom door opened. Though his back was facing towards the entrance, it appeared that Torb was already working away at some sort of project. He must have been concentrating extra hard on it, because he didn't acknowledge the Junker as he walked in.

            "What'cha workin' on?" Junkrat piped, and Torb gave a start before nearly falling off his stool. Off the workbench rolled a ball of yarn, and a crochet hook clattered to the floor. Torb hopped down off his seat, and scooped the fallen items.

            "Da' nerve a ya, sneakin' up on me like dat! Could'a given me a heart attack! I'm no spring chicken, ye know!" Torb lectured as he dusted off the ball of ivory yarn. Junkrat peeked at the project on the table. It was something lacy and delicate.

            "Didn't know ya knit. Makin' y'self a jumper?" he teased. Torb scowled, and pointed the metal hook at him.

            "This is crochet, ya bag a bones!" he growled, and seemed genuinely offended that Junkrat didn't know the difference, "And it ain't a jumper. It's a scarf fer Sym's care-package... Heard London's in a bit of a cold snap. Thought she could use somethin' warm," Torb admitted, and to Junkrat's surprise, he noticed a blush break out over Torb's cheeks and nose. There was an odd feeling that settled in Junkrat's chest, and he couldn't quite place it. He felt strangely warm, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He realized that it wasn't just him, Hog, and Hana. It seemed everyone cared about her, and missed her presence. _Not as much as me, though._ Torb folded the project up, and tucked it in a drawer to finish later.

            "Reinhardt's shield projector is busted. Thought it could withstand Fareeha's rocket blasts, but dat girl's fire power was too much fer dat old t'ing. Told him to take it easy durin' field tests, but does he ever listen? An' Jesse's arm is lockin' up. Figured ya might be the best t'take a look at it, considering ya built yer own," Torb grumbled while handing him the papers for the work orders, and motioning to the cart that had the pieces to work on. Junkrat snatched the pages and looked them over before getting started. Ever since repairing Mei's blaster (accompanied with the story of his success and snowball fight), Junkrat had become the go-to Mr. Fix-It in the watchpoint. He didn't mind at all, really. He'd never admit it to anyone, but he secretly liked the challenge of working on so many different kinds of projects. And really, there were only so many land mines and grenades a guy could make before the back stock started overflowing from the cases in the armory.

            He fiddled with Jesse's prosthetic arm, and eventually found the cause of the jam. He marveled at the design. It was considerably less bulky than his own, but he realized that was probably why it was prone to more issues. The parts had been pushed together, and while more compact, it led to wires rubbing against one another, causing unnecessary friction. Eventually he was able to get it in working order, and gave it a little tune up.

            Reinhardt's shield, on the other hand, was considerably more complex, and unfamiliar territory. _This seems more like Sym's game. Or maybe Winston's._ But he had schematics. He had the correct tools and materials. He had what he needed to make it work. The challenging project, much like Mei's blaster, sucked him in, and it wasn't until Torb tapped his shoulder to remind him that it was after five that he was supposed to go shopping for a gift. He left the project out, so he could pick right back up the next day.

            Hog and Rat set out of the watchpoint, and head into town. He hadn't left the grounds since taking Sym to the airfield, and he tried to shove the memory aside. Before shopping could commence, Junkrat decided he'd need a pick-me-up, and had Hog stop at the cafe. He snagged a couple bubble teas, and brought one out to his friend (who wasn't allowed in, due to his lack of a shirt). The pair walked down the sidewalks, and while the town was once again fairly empty, the few pedestrians they saw always made sure to give the imposing pair plenty of personal space.

            "Yeesh. Ya'd think we're scary, or somethin'!" Junkrat commented, and took a slurp of his milk tea. Hog merely snorted in response, though Junkrat was well-versed in what that meant.

            "Don't know what yer talkin' bout, mate. I'm charmin' as fuck, an' yer a real looker!" Junkrat quipped, and Hog rumbled a laugh. They walked past a women’s' clothing boutique, but Junkrat couldn't bring himself to go in. It would have been completely foreign territory, and not something he could navigate on his own. They popped into the bookstore for a moment, and Hog took a quick look before making a selection, and cashing out.

            "The Captain's Siren. From that bloke who wrote those Highwayman books. This one's 'bout pirates an' mermaids," Hog explained.

            "Dunno' if she's gonna' have much time fer readin', mate. Says she's workin twelve-hour days," Junkrat replied.

            "Th'fuck you talkin' ‘bout? This is f'me. I'm buyin' her soap," Hog retorted.

            "Well, shit! There goes my idea!" Junkrat snipped. _Why's this gotta' be so bloody difficult?_

"Ya' ain't sendin' her soap. That's a shit gift t'come from ya," Hog lectured. They passed by a different sort of ‘bookstore’ (cleverly named ‘The Toy Box’), and Junkrat raised an eyebrow while rubbing his chin in thought. _Maybe... maybe something fun t'keep her comp'ny when I'm not 'round. A lil’ buzzer a some sort._..

            "Ya' ain't sendin' her none a that, either," Hog quipped, and pulled him by his shirt collar. _Aw, yer no fun! But I’m comin’ back t’this place later!_ They were just coming up to a boutique soap shop called Ida Bella's, when a glint caught Junkrat's eye. Across the street was a jewelry store that boasted new and antique gems, and there were several displays in the windows.

            "Oo! Shiny!" he marveled to himself, and walked over without another word. He peeked in each window, scanning the contents. Oh, there were plenty of things he wouldn't mind pocketing for himself. Natural emeralds usually fetched a high price if you knew where you could move them. The ruby earrings on display looked nice, but he could tell they were lab-created. _Worthless_. He stepped by the last window, and there he saw it. _That's it! It's fuckin' perfect!_

            The oval sapphire was massive, and set in gold. The eyes from three peacock tail feathers surrounded it. He didn't know what she would do with it. The piece was large, and one would even call it gaudy, but it glittered and sparkled, and he'd be happy even if she just hung it on her wall as a piece of artwork. _That's... that's a fuckin' natural sapphire, too! Oh, that's gotta' be worth a fuckin' mint! What th'fuck is that sorta' thing even doin' here?!_ Instinctively, he scanned the window for security details. No outer cameras? A piddling wired alarm that could be snipped in an instant? A wicked grin spread across his face. _Practically puttin' this lovely on a platter!_ A sharp smack caught the back of his head.

            "Th,fuck, mate?!" he hissed and rubbed the sore spot.

            "I know that look. Ya' fuckin' stupid? Ya' get caught, we get sacked, ya knob!" Hog spat.

            "I won't get caught! They barely got security on this! Easiest grab I'd ever make!" he countered.

            "Is it for Sym?" Hog prodded. He looked at the piece out of the corner of his eye.

            "Yeah,".

            "Ya think she'd want it if she knew ya' nicked it?" Hog asked. The question was rhetorical, of course, and Junkrat decided it was not a good time to be a smartass.

            "What's th'point a goin' legit, an' workin' fer all this cash if ya ain't gonna’ spend it?" Hog added. Junkrat bit the side of his cheek in thought.

            "Ya got that money card the boss gave ya?" Hog asked, and Junkrat reached into his pocket where he also kept his keycard. He pulled out the bit of plastic. Since banks typically frowned upon opening accounts for wanted felons, Winston had forged them money cards that could withdraw straight from Overwatch's private account. He had even picked them phony names, and created fake ID's to match. His card had the name Remy Templeton laser-cut into it. He hadn't used it yet (the few purchase he had made since joining were strictly cash), and a part of him worried if it would even work. Another part of him wondered if he even had enough in the account to pay for it. He'd never bothered to look at his actual balance before. Hog seemed to know what was going through his mind.

            "Ya' got more than enough. Get yer ass in there, or we're goin' home," he rumbled, and shoved Junkrat towards the door of the shop. He didn't really know what to expect. The only time he had set foot inside jewelry stores was typically at night for a quick smash-and-grab. Being inside the shop during working hours felt entirely different. There were lights on. He could actually see what the shop sold, rather than reaching blindly into cases. Everything sparkled to a point that almost seemed unreal. The shop was clean, tastefully decorated, and seemed to cater to a very high-end sort of clientele. Dressed in his scrubby jeans and t-shirt, he suddenly felt incredibly out of place. _Fuck... shoulda' showered... this was a mistake!_

            "Sir, can I help you? Do you need directions?" a woman in a smart blue blazer asked. Her red hair was pulled up into a tidy bun, much like the style Sym would sport. She exuded an air of professionalism, and while polite, she made it abundantly clear that she didn't think he could possibly have any business with the shop. Though determined, he drummed his fingers nervously on the glass counter.

            "No. Um... here t'buy a gift, actually. Saw that sapphire in th'window. The one with the feathers," he started. The woman looked rather surprised at first, though a slightly smug smile quickly replaced it.

            "Sir, that is a very rare natural sapphire pendant. And an antique, as well. It is currently valued at ten thousand credits," she stated, expecting the price to shock him.

            "Yeah, that's 'bout what I thought, given the clarity and color," he answered. The clerk, who's name tag read Sasha, did a slight double-take at Junkrat's response, and how unfazed he seemed by such a large sum of money. Her eyes narrowed a touch.

            "You said it's to be a gift?" she asked, as if trying to gauge whether or not he was lying.

            "Yeah. A gift fer my Sym!" he cheerfully piped, and flashed her an excited grin. The woman once again grew confused.

            "What's a Sym?" she asked, as though it were some slang-term she was unfamiliar with.

            "Oh... um... She's m'girlfriend!" he nervously responded, and his voice reached a slightly higher pitch at the end. _Fuck, that’s a weird thing t’say outloud. Girlfriend. Don’t sound right._ The woman's eyebrows raised in surprise.

            "A... um... yes. Apologies. Give me a moment while I remove it from the window," Sasha responded, and head towards the back of the locked displays. Junkrat looked around the sumptuous store, and caught the eye of an older clerk helping a man in a suit. The Junker wiggled his fingers in a greeting, and the man merely scowled. _Yeesh! Fuckin' git! These people are rude rude rude! Guess that's t'be expected with Suits._

            "Here we are, sir," Sasha said, bringing his attention back. She held the sapphire out on a piece of black velvet for him to inspect.

            "The sapphire is set in twenty karat yellow gold. Those are real peacock feathers, of course, and given the age and condition they’re in, it makes the piece even more remarkable. As you can see, it is meant to be worn as either a pin, or a pendant..." she explained, and delicately, turned the jewel to show the two different settings on the back.

            "It, of course, comes with a matching chain..." she added. Junkrat gave a quick nod of approval.

            "Alright," he answered. Sasha raised an eyebrow at his ambiguous response.

            "It's perfect. I'll take it!" he clarified. At this, Sasha nearly scoffed.

            "Due to the limited nature of this piece, we cannot do financing. We would require the full payment upfront. Would this be a problem?" she asked, and from the tone of her voice, it almost seemed like she wanted him to say it would be. Junkrat played it cool, and handed her the money card.

            "I'll need ID as well," she snipped, and he handed that to her as well. She examined the name on the ID and card, and checked the photo. He gave her the same unsettling grin that was in the ID picture. She stepped away to process the payment, and Junkrat busied himself looking inside the case in front of him. He wasn't paying too much attention, and merely enjoyed the sparkle of the diamonds inside. A few minutes later, Sasha returned with a velvet case, and a stylish paper bag.

            "Your purchase, Mr. Templeton," she said, as she slid the case into the shopping bag, and handed him back his card and ID. It took him a moment to realize she was talking to him, but he tore his gaze away from the case, and slid the cards in his pocket. He grabbed the bag from her, and she handed him the receipt. Her eyes darted to the case he had been gazing at, before looking back up.

            "A pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Templeton... and if things go well between you and your... Sym... please keep us in mind for any future needs," she added, and her face finally settled to a warm smile. _What th'fuck does she mean by that?_ Her eyes darted back to the case, and he followed along. _What? It's just rings and bands. Ain't even Sym's style._  The clerk wouldn't stop smiling, and it grew rather unnerving.

            "Um... yeah. Okay... thanks..." he muttered, and he couldn't get out of the shop fast enough. He nearly stumbled crossing the street to find Hog in the soap shop. Junkrat felt just as much as a fish out of water in that store too, but at least he wasn't the only Junker there. Hog took up most of the floor space in the small store, and the two other customers inside (middle-aged women sporting looks of terror) squeezed into a corner to stay out of his way.

            "Oh, this is a lovely blend of lily of the valley and vetiver. Nice and light. It is quite popular with most women," a reedy voice described. Hog turned just enough, and Junkrat finally noticed the incredibly tiny and hunched old lady at his side. She was wrapped up in thick cardigan, and her silver hair was plaited into a thin braid. She reached into a basket, and pulled out a cake of soap to hand to the massive Junker. She squinted behind thick glasses as Hog brought the bar up to the snout of his mask, and took in several deep inhales. Hog gave a dismissive snort, and handed it back. The lady didn't seem bothered by it. She merely placed a tiny wrinkled hand on Hog's forearm, and pulled him towards more displays. She blindly pawed through a few more baskets, and pulled some more cakes out. _She can't see fer shit! That's why she ain't scared!_

            "How about sandalwood and tonka bean? It's sweet, but earthy. And this here is a delightful mix of lavender with bergamot. Very clean. Fans of Earl Grey tea really go for this one," the lady continued. Hog took both bars, and gave each another sniff. He seemed to find something he liked, and handed it back to her.

            "This one..." he rumbled, handing her back the bar of sandalwood. The woman took it, and head towards the old register, where she started to bag up the purchase.

            "It sounds like you have respiratory troubles. I'm going to include a eucalyptus sachet. No charge. Tie that to your shower head. It will help open up those lungs. Good for asthmatics," the crone instructed, and Junkrat let out a snort. She looked up, and adjusted her lenses to squint some more, having only just noticed Junkrat's presence.

            "A friend of yours?" she asked Hog, and he grunted a begrudging yes.

            "I smell sweat, grease and gasoline. A mechanic, perhaps? I have a bar with coffee grounds. Good for deep cleaning grease, and getting into the nooks and crannies," she said, pointing to a basket over towards the front window. _Yick. Don't say crannies! It's creepy!_ Junkrat grunted a "no thanks", and waited for Hog to pay. As they stepped out, the lady called back.

            "And dear, if you're ever interested, I also make tea blends, so do come back. I loved our little chat," she called to the colossal Junker. Hog waved goodbye, and they head out.

            "Think ya made another friend, Hog!" Junkrat snickered, and his friend gave a snort in warning.

            "Don't you say another fuckin' word. Ida's a goddamn delight!" Hog snarled, and handed Junkrat the comically tiny bag of soap. The pair rode back home, and went to give their gifts to Angela. She was in her office, examining Torb's wrist.

            "You must be careful with that delicate work. Tendinitis can be quite debilitating. I want you to wear this brace, and take a break from any projects that require finesse," the doctor instructed, handing Torb a beige brace, and head towards her desk to take a seat.

            "It's fine, Angela. I finished de scarf," he scoffed, and hopped off the exam table. He grumbled a greeting to the Junkers as he left the office. Hog handed the bag of soap to Angela.

            "Fer Sym," he said, and trudged out of the office without saying another word. Angela raised an eyebrow, and peeked into the bag. Noticing it was soap, she gave a little sniff, and seemed to approve of Hog's selection.

            "Ida's soaps are sure to please," she commented to herself. She looked up from the bag, noticing Junkrat still standing by her desk. She sat the soap down, and clasped her hands in front of her.

            "Did you have something for the care package as well?" she asked. Junkrat nervously cleared his throat, and held out the bag from the jewelry store. Angela blinked in a bit of shock as she recognized the name on the bag.

            "You went to Farrow's?!" she asked, a slight gasp of shock in her voice. Junkrat began to sweat, and rubbed the back of his neck. _Was this a mistake?_ She peered into the bag, and pulled out the gray velvet case.

            "May I?" she asked, her fingers on the edges of the box. He shrugged a yes, and she pried it open. She took in a sharp breath.

            "Oh! Oh, Rat!" she gushed at the sight of the pendant inside. His face grew incredibly red. _This was a bad idea. Too much. It’s too much..._ He’d always told himself that there was nothing that was too good for Sym. She deserved whatever her heart desired, and he’d gladly arrange that, if he could. And yet, it still made him uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t quite place to have another person scrutinize his selection. He began to worry that the gift was, perhaps, too over-the-top. Angela looked at his awkward blush, and suddenly nervous stance. She snapped the case shut and gave him a gentle smile.

            "She will love it," she reassured, and tucked the case back into the bag.

            "I think I'll have to insure the package for a dollar amount. Do you mind telling me how much you spent?" she innocently asked, and grabbed a scrap of paper and a pencil to jot the number down. Junkrat cleared his throat, and reached into his pocket. He handed her the receipt, and she hesitantly took it from his hands. Angela's eyes popped out of her skull, and she took a deep breath to steady herself.

            "Well... perhaps I will send it via courier instead,".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the ridiculous amount of fluff in this chapter... (I'm not sorry at all).


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sym has another day off, and prepares for an upcoming party. She also receives a surprise from a courier, and an unexpected visitor.

            Symmetra woke at 7:45. It felt wonderful to sleep in so late. She had another day off, and she wanted to make it out to the post office before Sanjay called and tried roping her into taking a meeting or call in his stead. He had no problem shoveling more work onto her pile, and she supposed it didn't help that she had always been seen as a "yes girl". Maintaining her old work habits was so much more difficult knowing that it was all a facade, and the only thing getting her through it at all (aside from the hope of returning to Gibraltar) was the fact that the Tranquility Center was, in fact, a noble cause. The Tranquility Center was also her design, and she took pride in knowing that people would receive the help they needed in a place that she had created. 

            She packed the last few gifts into a box, popped on her jacket, and head out into the streets of London. The weather was nasty. A cold spell had hit the city, and rain gave way to a sleety mess. Sym regretted not having anything to cover her ears or face, and she also regretted not requesting the hotel staff to ship the package out. _No! I need to get out of the hotel! I don't care how awful the weather is! I can't take another moment of being cooped up!_

The morning after her phone call to Jaime, she had managed to spend a full day in London exploring the city. She found it charming, for the most part, though the anti-Omnic graffiti and pockets of protesters did make her feel uncomfortable. While she had been out and about that day, she had ducked into several shops, and found lots of gifts that reminded her of everyone back at the watchpoint. She wanted to let them all know that she missed them, and was thinking about them, and so she decided to throw together a little care-package to send their way. It was a novelty to have people to shop for, and she took a great deal of pleasure in selecting items that she hoped they'd enjoy. Shipping the gifts out had to wait until the following week, when she was finally able to justify another day off. The post office was surprisingly busy, and she waited an obscene amount of time in line. The postman behind the counter was cheerful and polite, and asked her a few questions pertaining to the contents of her package.

            "No liquids? No combustibles? No consumables? No wildlife?". Sym said no to all his queries, and gave the man the address to the post office box in Gibraltar. She paid the shipping fee, received her receipt, and left. On her way back, she stopped at a nice tea shop she had discovered the week prior, and treated herself to a hot chocolate, and a sweet bun.

            "Here you are, Miss. Perfect for this nasty weather, eh?" the girl behind the counter piped, handing Sym her beverage and pastry. Between her accent and her plucky demeanor, she reminded her of Lena. Sym thanked the girl, and stepped back out into the elements. As she finished up her treats, which helped to take the chill out of her bones, she passed by a shop called Spennymore, which specialized in haute couture. _I do still need a dress for the gala_... 

            Her final day on the job was something she was actually looking forward to. It wasn't just that it would mark the end of her stay, but the project completion was to be celebrated with a New Year's Eve Gala, and she wouldn't lie. The fact that the party was to be in celebration of her creation made her feel honored. _Why couldn't more Vishkar projects be like this? This is something the people actively want. So much so that the British government is actually celebrating it!_  She stepped into the shop, and was immediately greeted by a blonde sales associate dressed in a snappy black suit. The man came over to her side.

            "Pardon my forwardness, but I noticed the logo on your jacket. Are you perhaps here to look for a dress for the gala?" the man asked after a quick introduction. Sym looked down at the Vishkar logo for only a moment before answering that she was.

            "Ah! I am not surprised. I've had a lot of people come in to prepare. Even had the prime minister's daughter in here just yesterday," the man (whom had introduced himself as Patrick) replied, and there seemed to be a touch of a boast in his voice. He took her over towards the shop's formal-wear section, and proceeded to pull out a few styles of dresses.

            "The cocktail dresses have been a popular choice, but then, most women lean towards that style for New Year's parties..." he started, and held up a couple dresses with shorter skirts and bright colors. _Too flirty. That's more of Hana or Lena's style._

            "Perhaps something longer? More elegant? I prefer strapless, if at all possible," Sym requested. Patrick flicked through several hangers, before finding a few selections that fit her description. He held them up for her to look through. The gowns were quite lovely, but nothing really jumped out at her. _Perhaps the black? I do not care for the neckline, though I suppose anything would do at this point. I won't get very many days off for shopping after this..._ Sym pondered her decision, and Patrick seemed to notice that she wasn't particularly satisfied with any of them.

            "Miss... it seems these are not to your liking?" he observed.

            "Forgive me. They are nice, but I suppose not my style," she replied. He seemed to take no offense, and it appeared that an idea struck him.

            "If you're interested, we have a few designs in the back that the lead designer has been working on for the spring line. He was a little... inspired... by the Tranquility Center. Apparently he spent several years living in Utopaea before coming to London. I feel there's one dress in particular that you might appreciate," Patrick offered. Curiosity piqued, Sym agreed, and he took her towards the back, where a sewing room remained locked. He opened it up, and several dress-forms were covered in mock-ups of various designs. There were bolts of fabrics stacked along the back wall, and illustrations and patterns lined the other three. Sym walked up to one of the dress-forms, which was sporting a gown that reminded her a bit of the elegant sarees she saw back in her academy days. She loved the modern take on the classic design.

            "I like the shape of this, and the drape of the fabric. Though, pastels are not my favorite. I understand it is to be a spring line, but is there a possibility to have this dress made in a different color?" she asked, as she examined the pale pink silk. Patrick seemed pleased.

            "It would be no problem at all. Although, due to the upcoming busy season, you'd have to select from the in-house fabrics," he stated, waving towards the back wall. Sym went through them all, and felt each bolt for texture and color. She finally found a silk she liked.

            "I believe this taffeta here would be perfect, and the gold brocade for the accents," she said, after spending some time selecting. Patrick already had a pad out, and was making notes on her choices.

            "Of course! Now, if you'll please follow me to the fitting room, we can take your measurements, and then it will just be a matter of taking the deposit," he said, while scribbling away. Sym followed towards the fitting area, and removed her coat. As Patrick took out his tape measure, he continued to speak about the gala.

            "From what I gather, it's to be quite the affair... arms up, please? There we are... have you selected a mask yet?" Patrick asked. The question was not one she expected.

            "Mask?".

            "Oh! I just assumed you knew. The gala is a masquerade. Very popular for New Year's celebrations..." he said, and wrote down the measurement of her bust. He moved lower towards her waist.

            "I was not made aware. I stepped into this project rather late, I'm afraid. That bit of information must have slipped through the cracks," she explained. Patrick noted her waist measurement, and moved lower towards her hips.

            "Well, if you like, I can point you towards an import shop that's not terribly far from here. They bring in all sorts of items from Italy. I have it on good authority that they sell traditional Venetian masks, and this time of year, they should have plenty to choose from," he offered. Sym nodded.

            "Thank you. That would be incredibly helpful," she said. Patrick finished up taking her measurements, and prepared her order. She was to come in for a fitting the day after Christmas, and from there could pick up the gown on the day of the gala. He also wrote down the address and directions for the import shop, and sent her on her way. _What a helpful man!_ She followed his instructions, and eventually found the shop. She couldn't suppress a smirk at the name: The Merchant of Venice. She pushed the heavy wood door open, and a bell rang, announcing her entrance. An old man looked up from his newspaper.

            "Mask?" he said in greeting. Sym gave a nod, and he stepped away from the counter he had been leaning against.

            "This time of year, everyone's planning a masquerade..." he commented. Sym gave a smile, and brushed off the man's gruffness. He took her over towards an alcove that had several different designs. She carefully looked through them all, not quite finding what she was looking for.

            "I suppose you're looking for one that'll match your dress?" The man asked. Sym nodded again.

            "Yes. I chose a deep blue and gold. I was hoping to find something opulent to match it. It is to be a rather formal affair," she responded. The man stepped a little further towards the back, where more masks were on display.

            "Folks seem to enjoy the animal designs. Had to order quite a few cases, though the most recent shipment has a few new styles. Here! This might be up your alley," he said while pulling down a mask from one of the upper shelves.

            "Only got one of these in. There isn't any gold, but I think it'll probably match the blue..." he offered, while handing her a dainty mask. She stepped over to a mirror that hung from the wall, and held it up to her face. It fit nicely, and only covered around her eyes, and over the bridge of her nose. A small black beak came down the center. The blue paint was slightly iridescent, and shimmered with a touch of green and violet, depending on which way the light hit it. The sides were flanked with peacock feathers, and little rhinestones glittered around the eyeholes. Overall, she found it to be exactly what she had hoped for.

            "It's perfect! I'll take it!" she said, and handed the mask to the man. He carefully wrapped it in tissue paper, and tucked it into a sturdy plastic bag. After cashing out, Sym head back to her hotel. Though the weather was still nasty, the beginning to her day had been incredibly pleasant. That was, until she got back to the hotel. She had just rounded the corner when an older car zipped through the street. Its rubber tires sloshed through a puddle of slushy muck, and the mess splattered all across Sym. She let out a yelp from the cold and shock, and then hissed a frustrated obscenity under her breath. _Oh, for the love of... Of course I would be splashed by the only car in England that still has tires! Now I will need another shower, and a change of clothes!_  She trudged into the hotel, and grimaced at the trail of drips she left in her wake.

            "Ah! What perfect timing! Ms. Vaswani?" the concierge called as she neared the front desk. She looked up to see a man with a metal case cuffed to his wrist waiting next to the staff member who called her name. _A courier? And of course, now everyone will see me dripping like a drowned cat!_ She walked up to the man, and showed her ID. He had her sign for the package, and unlocked the large metal case. From it, he pulled a cardboard box, and proceeded to hand it over. She took the package, thanked him and the concierge, and head to her hotel room to change.

            The bag with the mask was carefully laid on her dresser, and she placed the mystery box on her bed. She quickly stripped off her wet clothes, and stuffed them in a canvas bag for laundry service. She tossed a fresh skirt and blouse onto the bed, and peered at the address on the box. It was from Gibraltar! The handwriting on the package was elegant, and familiar. _Angela?_ _What could she have sent me?_ Sym used her sharp thumbnail to slice the tape seal, and opened the box up. Inside were several smaller packages, wrapped up in colorful paper. A notecard was tucked at the top, and she pulled it out to reveal more of Angela's lovely script.

**Dear Sym,**

**Thinking of you, now and always!**

 

            The message was followed by a heart. Sym picked up the first gift, and noticed it had a name on it. Reinhardt. _Did they all get me something? How... how very sweet!_ Her heart felt warm and light as she unwrapped the gift. Reinhardt had sent her a pair of warm slouchy socks. Zarya and Mei had sent her a bottle of perfume. Angela; a bottle of lavender oil for her bath. Lena; a tin of her homemade shortbread. Jesse had whittled a little sculpture of a cat. Even Pharah had sent a gift of a lovely gold headband. _Oh, this would actually work perfectly for the gala!_ Hog's gift was a bar of soap, and she found the scent pleasing. Winston had shipped along a book about theoretical physics. Torb; an ivory scarf that looked to be handmade. Hana; a set of satin pajamas. There was one last gift, and she wasn't sure as to whether it was placed in the bottom to be saved for last intentionally, but she reached inside the box, and pulled out the final item. - _Jamison._ She undid the paper to reveal a gray velvet case, and carefully pried it open.

            _Oh! Oh Jaime!_ She held up the pendant and stared at it, breathless. There was no doubt in her mind that the sapphire was genuine. The gold glimmered in the light. The feathers surrounding it only heightened the color of the stone. The piece was large, and much too extravagant for daily wear, but she knew just the perfect event to wear it to. _It's as if he somehow knew... I suppose if he can't be at the gala with me, I will at least have this to keep me company._ She cupped the pendant in her hands, and placed a soft kiss on the stone before tucking it back in its case. She left the box on her bed, and stepped into the bathroom. _First, a shower, and then a call to thank them all!_

            She turned on the shower stall, and the water came out piping hot. It seeped through her skin, and melted away the cold from the sleet, slush, and wind. The thought of her gifts warmed her even further. _I'm glad I was able to return the favor. I hope they enjoy their gifts as much as I love mine. Oh, but how much did Jaime spend? I know he wouldn't steal a gift for me, but that stone has to be expensive!_ Since she started working for Vishkar, she had always earned an impressive wage, and expendable income had almost always been readily available to her. She was accustomed to the finer things, though she had never purchased anything so extravagant for herself. She smirked at the thought of him being inside an actual jewelry store to make the purchase. What a sight that must have been! Then she tried to imagine what the piece would look like with her soon-to-be-ensemble. A part of her wished he could be there to see her wear it for the first time, and then she tried imagining what he looked like cleaned up and in a suit. _Or better yet... a tuxedo._ She shook her head at the ridiculous thought. _I know he loves me, but even still, I'm sure there's no way I could convince him to become a "suit"... a woman can dream, though_.

            Feeling sufficiently warm and clean, she turned the shower off, began to dry herself, and then wrapped the towel around her. Her hair dripped, and she took the blow-dryer to it. She realized she had left her change of clothes on her bed, and went to retrieve them.

            "Vaswani!" Sanjay snapped. Sym's heart skipped several beats as she let out a choked yelp in shock, and nearly fell back. Her eyes bulged, her mouth hung open, and her blood ran cold. Her superior stood in her room, and seemed only mildly shocked at her state of dress, or rather, lack thereof. She finally found her voice,

            "What are you doing here?!" she gasped, as she tightened the towel around her. She never felt so exposed before. Sanjay turned his back to her, affording her only the slightest semblance of privacy.

            "I told you I was coming by today, remember? Well, clearly you didn't," he answered, calm and collected. _No. No you didn't. I WOULD have remembered. What is your game?_

            "Apologies, Sanjay. I must have forgotten. Remind me again why you came?" she asked, and tried to hide the tremor in her voice. She reached forward, and grabbed her clothes off the bed. Sanjay turned a bit, and noticed the care package on her bed.

            "We are to take the head research team on a walkthrough of the Tranquility Center today," he answered, and began to reach into the box. _No! That is your job! You never told me I would be going! And those are my things!_ Sym took a nervous step back towards the bathroom.

            "Yes, of course... and how did you get into my room?" she asked. Sanjay examined the scarf from Torbörn.

            "Your door was unlocked. I figured you had left it open for me," he explained. _I most certainly did not!_ Sanjay placed the scarf back in the box, and rifled around some more.

            "I see... how careless of me," she stammered. He picked up the gray case, and her heart stopped beating as he opened it up. Sanjay’s eyes widened a touch at the sight of the gift. _Oh gods, no! Nonono!_

            "Yes, careless. One would almost think this was deliberate... It seems you have rather endeared yourself to the Overwatch team," he responded, changing the subject while continuing to study the pendant, "This piece is rather extravagant, though gaudy,".

            "Do not let the sparkle fool you. It is a tacky costume piece, and nothing more," she lied, playing down the pendant. Her chest ached with panic. Sanjay closed the case, and carelessly tossed it back into the box.

            "Make yourself presentable, Vaswani. The research team will be arriving in an hour," he said, once again turning his back, but refusing to leave the room itself. She was too scared to move, but even more terrified of what he might do if she tried to defy him. She withdrew to the relative safety of her bathroom, and quietly locked the door. Her hands trembled as she pulled her clothes on, and buttoned up her blouse. _What if he finds my pictures?!_ She had taken the precaution of tucking the photos into work binders in the event that someone did try to spy on her, and while she felt paranoid at the time, at that moment she worried she hadn’t hidden them well enough. Fully dressed, she quickly threw her hair up into a knot, and clipped it down. She stepped back out, and thankfully found that he hadn’t moved an inch. He turned, and his eyes did a quick sweep over her.

           “That will suffice, I suppose. Grab your coat. The research team is on its way,” he   instructed; as though the horrendous invasion in privacy had never happened.

           Ten minutes later, they were in the back of a cab heading towards the Tranquility Center. The ride was silent, and it gave Sym a chance to regain her composure. Doing so allowed her to see the encounter with Sanjay for what it was. It was a warning; a display of control and power. He didn't need to say anything to make the message clear. "I can come and go as I please. I have the means to end you, should you step out of line,".  _He must suspect that my allegiances have turned, and he knows I can't afford to leave Vishkar._ All of her caution and planning had been for naught. He didn't need to bug her room, tap her phone, or hide cameras. He knew and now she was trapped in the very web she had worked so hard to stay out of. _Vishkar might pull funding. I will not be allowed back. They may even fire me, and I will have nowhere to go._ She ran her finger around the lens of her gauntlet. _I can’t let this happen. I need a plan. I need help… I need a miracle._ Sanjay’s phone rang, interrupting the awful silence.

            “Korpal… yes. I’m on my way to the center for a final walkthrough with the research team… No, Vaswani is with me… Yes… I see… Do you not think it beneficial for me to stay? …I see… Yes, sirs. At once,”. Sanjay ended the call, and hissed a few obscenities before turning to look at Sym.

            “The board has requested that I return to Utopaea for the time-being. Pressing matters to attend to for future projects. They believe you’re more than capable of wrapping up here,” he reluctantly explained. _Thank the gods!_ Yes, she was thankful, but she was also very suspicious. It was very rare to pull a department head away from such a large project before seeing it to completion. With the unexpected reprieve came a new wave of worry. _Something is happening. Something big._ She pushed it aside. At the very least, she had some time to devise a plan. The cab pulled up, and Sym stepped out without another word. Sanjay grabbed at her wrist before she could disappear into the safety of the building. His grip was tense, and uncomfortable; another warning.

            “I need to leave at once. You are in charge until I return for the gala. Perform admirably, and I may forget about your indiscretions at Gibraltar,” he warned, before letting go. _Oh! Oh, you viper! You wicked viper!_ The cab sped off, and she stood on the steps, trying to once again regain her composure. _I need to find out what is going on!_

            The doctors, researches, and scientists arrived right on time, and she let them into the building. They seemed amiable enough, and being in the presence of people that weren't Sanjay helped strengthen her resolve. She took in a deep breath to collect herself, and introduced herself to the team.

            "Will Mr. Korpal be joining us?" a man with a thick gray mustache asked. With much effort, Sym's face remained calm.

            "No. I am afraid Mr. Korpal is unavailable at the moment. He was called back to headquarters shortly before arriving here," she answered, and proceeded to lead the team through the building. It was nearly complete at that point, and aside from cosmetic work and interior decorating, it appeared ready to open its doors at a moment's notice. The team seemed rather impressed, and she answered their questions along the way. Three hours later, and seeming satisfied, one by one they left for the evening. The man with the mustache, Dr. Pennson, was the last to leave. Sym waited patiently by the front entrance for him to end his conversation so that she could lock up, and go back to her hotel room. Much to her chagrin, the man lingered.

            "Yes, this place really is quite the marvel. I understand you designed the building?" he asked. His voice was gruff, but kindly, and she found that he reminded her a bit of Reinhardt. She smiled and nodded.

            "Yes. When I heard that my design was selected for the project, I was most pleased. It is always a momentous occasion to see a creation come to life," she said, and couldn't contain her small smile. _At least I can still take pride in my work, if not the company that I work for._

            "And yet, you only just took on the position of project leader a few weeks ago, correct?" Dr. Pennson observed. Sym clasped her hands behind her back,

            "Yes. Shortly after my design was selected, I took on a special assignment that kept me away from this project. While I regret leaving my other assignment, it is nice to finish what I have started. Particularly since I was able to catch our team up after falling so far behind," she answered. A puzzled look came over the doctor's face.

            "Behind?". The man studied her face for a moment.

            "Yes. We had the two previous project leaders leave the company rather suddenly, and then of course the anti-Omnic protests slowed down progress quite a bit," Sym explained. Dr. Pennson shook his head, and a look of worry covered his face.

            "Ms. Vaswani... I think someone may have misinformed you. The project hasn't fallen behind. Its completion date was pushed forward considerably. It was originally slated to open in June of next year, but Mr. Korpal said he rearranged things to allow it to open by year's end..." the doctor countered. _What?! Why would he do that?!_ The look of confusion had become apparent on her face, and the doctor himself began to look nervous.

            "Yes. I thought it strange, too. Our board of directors said June would have been fine, but the Vishkar board seemed so adamant, and went ahead with the revised schedule... Do you happen to know what happened with your predecessors?". Sym shook her head no. Every time she asked Sanjay about Geet and Chirag, he merely answered with something vague, and so (not wanting to raise suspicion) she never pushed it. 

            "What happened?" she hesitantly asked. Dr. Pennson looked around as though worried that somebody was standing next to them.

            "The first man. Chirag? He was doing well, until the completion date was moved. I believe the stress from the increase in the workload was too much for him, and, from what I understand, he ended up suffering a stroke in the middle of production. Geet was brought in, but trying to take over with such a frantic pace was too difficult. He was fired shortly after, and ended up taking his own life,". Sym's face dropped in horror. _Oh gods!_   _I... I suggested Geet! I told Sanjay to choose him! He's dead now, because of me!_

            "What? I don't... I can't..." Sym stammered in shock. She had no words at the realization of what was happening around her. Fear had once again taken hold. There was something far more sinister going on; something behind the scenes that she couldn't quite see. Dr. Pennson placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

            "I urge you to be careful. This is all rather suspicious. I don't know their game, and my hands are tied. I don't want this place to be tainted by something so negative, but I'm afraid of coming forward to say anything. Vishkar's legal team would rip me apart if I tried to expose them, and that could ruin my practice and research," he explained. She took in another deep breath to steady herself. _This… this cannot happen! I will not let Vishkar sweep more death under the rug. Something is going on, and I need to find out what._

            "Dr. Pennson... would you ever be willing to at least make a statement with your own professional opinion, should the time come?" Sym asked. The doctor nodded.

            "Of course! Here. This is my email, and my personal phone where you can reach me at any time. Do not hesitate to call," he said, handing her a card from his wallet. He let out a heavy breath, and squeezed her shoulder.

            "You know, when I heard we were to receive another project leader, I took the time to do a little research on you. Call it a hunch, but I knew in an instant you were the right person to talk to. Please be careful, Ms. Vaswani,". Symmetra pocketed his card, and stood tall.

            "Do not worry for me. It is in my hands now, and I will not falter,".


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A care package arrives at the watchpoint. Junkrat begins to once again worry about Sym's lack of communication. Sym makes some discoveries around the office.

            "I've got a surprise for you all! Look at what came in the mail!" Angela chirped as she stepped out of her minivan. The crew was busy loading up the dropship for next day's mission, and the hangar buzzed with excitement at the surprise Angela had procured from her weekly mail-run. She pulled out a large cardboard box from the back seat, and brought it towards a stack of metal cases. She sat the box on top for the crew to inspect. Junkrat carefully set down the crate he had been carrying, and came over to see what the commotion was all about. He caught a glimpse of impeccably neat handwriting on the top. _It's from Sym!_  

            Angela struggled to get the box open, and Jesse handed her a pocket knife. The doctor quickly sliced it open with expert precision. First came a notecard, which she took a moment to read through. The contents inside were obscured by a layer of tissue paper.

            "It's from Sym, of course. It seems she has sent us a care package as well! Oh, but she didn't really have much time to wrap it, so she has here a list of who gets what. Okay... Jesse, this is for you," she said, handing the cowboy a long box. He opened it up to reveal a bolo tie with a silver charm. It looked like a cow skull.

            "Aw, now ain't that somethin'!" Jesse grinned, holding it up for everyone to see. Angela found another box, and handed it to Winston. He pulled out a sleek metal case for his glasses. His name had been engraved across the top. The ape smiled, and immediately tucked his frames inside. 

            "And, Mei, these are for you. So adorable!" Angela beamed, handing Mei a pair of plush slippers that looked like white seal pups. Their big black eyes stared upwards, and Mei let out a delighted giggle. Angela fished through the box, and began to laugh.

            "Oh, and Zarya, these HAVE to be for you!" she said pulling out a much larger pair of slippers that looked like bear feet; claws and all. Zarya gave a booming laugh at the ridiculous gift.

            "These will keep my tootsies nice and warm while scaring my enemies. They are perfect!" Zarya replied. Junkrat tried to remain patient, but honestly, the curiosity of what Sym might have gotten him was starting to gnaw at him. He kept trying to peer into the box, but Angela kept bending over it to pull out more items. She handed a plastic glasses case to Pharah.

            "Sym says every airborne person needs a pair," Angela explained, and Pharah opened the case to reveal a pair of aviator sunglasses. She gave a little chuckle.

            "Vaswani does have a unique sense of humor, I see," she said, while trying them on. Angela held up a shirt.

            "Oh! And this is for me... oh goodness, Sym. How sweet!" she said to herself. The black tee said "Miracle Worker" across the top, with a caduceus underneath. The doctor laid the shirt over the edge of the box, and continued onward. She rummaged around, pulled out a box marked 'fragile', and handed it to Hog. The Junker carefully opened it to reveal a dainty looking, though massive, teacup that could probably hold about a full liter of liquid. What Hog thought of the gift was anyone's guess, as his mask obscured any indication of how he felt.

            "Sym says it's intended to be a novelty flower pot, but she checked with the manufacturer, and it is safe to drink from. She figured you'd like a teacup more your size," Angela informed, and Hog gave a silent thumbs-up in approval. _Aw, love. Yer too good fer us!_ Next came a small wood case, which was handed to Reinhardt. It was a set of fishing lures, and he seemed to like them immensely.

            "Wunderbar!" the titan boomed. Angela started laughing as she reached in to procure another gift.

            "I know who this is for!" she teased. _Me! Memememe!_ But the box went to Torbörn. It was a kit for building miniature siege weapons, including a catapult, a trebuchet, and a battering ram. Torb grinned, and turned the box over to read the details. Lena got a sampler of teas from her favorite shop that she had told Sym to visit.

            "Aw! A taste of home!" she smiled, and hugged the box to her chest.

            "Hana, I believe this is for you, though I will not lie, I am quite envious..." Angela teased as she held up a hot pink hat with bunny ears. Hana gave an elated squeal, and pulled the ridiculous hat over her head. _Ain't no one left but Lúcio, and she doesn't even know he's here!_ Angela started pulling out several items.

            "Oh, and it appears she saved the best for last!" Angela smirked. She handed him a hardcover sketchbook. The paper was heavy-duty, and lacked the blue lines that his scrubby notebooks always sported. Next came several sets of pencils, erasers, and pens. Hana looked at the name on the metal case of colored pencils.

            "Wowzers! Those are like, REALLY fancy supplies. That's the kind of stuff real artists use!" she said. _Sym thinks I'm a real artist? I just like doodlin'!_ He was quite satisfied with his gifts, but Angela wasn't finished. She pulled out a thick olive green canvas bag, and everything slid into it rather nicely. Next came a bright orange yoyo. To his delight, it lit up when he started to play with it.

            "And one more thing... oh my goodness! She somehow resurrected them from the dead!" Angela chuckled, holding up a pair of green camouflage shorts. The shorts were clearly new, but Junkrat's eyes lit up at the familiar sight. He hugged the fabric, and rubbed his cheek along them. He couldn't wait to add patches of his own, and properly break them in.

            "My Symmie gets me!" he grinned, and he didn't care who heard it, or how stupid he probably looked while he nuzzled the shorts. Sym was thinking about him, and loved him, and bought him gifts that were meaningful and special. The hangar temporarily emptied as the crew went to put their presents away, or tend to other things. Junkrat just sat on the floor, and continued to look over his gifts longingly. 

            "Looks like Christmas came a little early," Lúcio said, looking over his shoulder. Junkrat popped open the metal case of colored pencils and examined the variety he had to work with. He'd never really worked in color before.

            "Yeah. S'pose so. Don't really celebrate it m'self. Used ta' when I was a kid, I think. Not really sure, though. Memory's a bit fuzzy on that," he rambled, running his fingers along the smooth wood of a grass-green pencil.

            "Sorry. Y'didn't get nothin'. Sym ain't s'pose t'know yer here, but she probably woulda' sent ya somethin' if she knew. Got a big heart. Wouldn't want ya t'feel left out," Junkrat explained. He didn't know if that was exactly true. Sym had mentioned before the Rio mission why she didn't particularly like the man, but then, her reasoning had more to do with Vishkar than anything else. With her pulling away from their tight hold, maybe she'd actually grow to like him. It wouldn't have been too difficult, because Lúcio was, well, so damn likable! He always had a smile on his face, and nice things to say. He practically oozed positivity, which had irked Junkrat at first, but it slowly began to grow on him.

            "Yeah. The more I hear about her from you and Hana, the more I'm starting to see that. Hey, uh... heard Pharah say a name. Vaswani..." he started. Junkrat closed the case to the pencils and looked up.

            "Yeah. That's her real name. Well, last name, anyways. First name's Satya, but she prefers Symmetra when she's workin'. Why?" he asked. Lúcio pulled a strange face for a moment, though it vanished nearly as quickly as it formed.

            "No reason. Just curious. Always heard people call her Sym or Symmetra. That's all," he said. Junkrat narrowed his eyes, but said nothing, and started to tuck all of his new supplies back into the messenger bag. Much as he wanted to crack into them, he still had work to do. 

            "Say, look man. I know we didn't exactly start off on the right foot, but...".

            "Save it, mate. I know ya' didn't mean nothin' by it. Just easy t'rile is all," Junkrat cut in. He still didn't particularly care for apologies. They always felt weird and sound forced to him. Lúcio's usual smile grew to something nervous.

            "You hear from her lately? Hana's starting to get worried is all. She kinda' filled me in about her getting called back over there..." he started. Junkrat hissed a pent up breath. No, she hadn't called. He knew she was nervous. He knew she was wanting to be cautious. He knew she was working long hours, and had a lot on her plate. Those excuses would have placated him regarding her lack of communication, but something Angela said a couple days ago festered in the back of his mind. She had gotten confirmation that the courier had delivered her package, and yet, there was no phone call of thanks. Nor an email or text. Surely any of those would have been acceptable in Vishkar's eyes. The company wouldn't find it suspicious that she made a simple message of thanks, would they?

            "No. Not in a bit. She works a lot though, so maybe she's just too busy, yeah?" Junkrat finally answered. Lúcio seemed genuinely concerned, and rubbed the back of his neck.

            "That could be it. Vishkar's known to run employees ragged... She planning to quit? Hana thought she might,” he replied. Junkrat folded up the shorts, and slid them into the bag as well.

            "She wants to, I think. I dunno'. If she quits, they might pull fundin'. She said they'd take her arm, too. All of her tech, actually. But it's alright. She said she's comin' back at th'end a th’year, so maybe she won't need to fer a bit longer," Junkrat explained, trying to sound positive towards the end. Lúcio seemed to be thinking things over.

            "I see... listen, make sure to tell Hana when she does call, cool? She's just really worried is all," Lúcio repeated, and left before Junkrat could respond. _Yeah... me too, now!_

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            _She hasn't called. Somethin's wrong... No. She's just bein' careful. She managed t'send out a care package, so that's a good thing, right? Maybe since she did that, she don't need t'call... But she still woulda' called t'say thanks. Aw Christ, Satya. I need t'know yer okay!_ Junkrat had laid in her bed that night, and it was his first time setting foot in her room since she had left. Much to his dismay, her scent no longer lingered on her pillow. The air inside seemed stagnant and stale, so he opened a window to let in the cool night breeze. He drummed his fingers over his stomach as he stared up at the ceiling. It was not a good time to be worrying again. The team was to leave for the states in just a few hours, and he was getting real sick of having worst-case-scenarios running through his head when he was supposed to be sleeping.

            He had called her earlier in the day, leaving a message to thank her for all of the presents. The rest of the team had called her cellphone, though no one seemed to be able to reach her. They chalked it up to her being busy, and simply left it at that. They also still believed she was coming home at the end of the month without question, and for a while, he had thought the same thing. He looked over at the phone on the nightstand. It was late. Very late. She'd probably be in bed. _Fuck it. I love ya, Satya, but if I can't sleep, neither can you!_ He reached over, snatched the phone, and called.

            The phone rang twice, and he half-expected it to go to voicemail again. It had become just another routine. Call Sym. Wait four rings. Listen to the automated message. Wait for the beep. Commence message. Hang up. This time was different.

            "Hello?" Sym's groggy voice called. She sounded befuddled, and while he was happy to hear her, he also felt incredibly guilty and selfish for waking her.

            "Hey love. I'm sorry I woke you up..." he started. _If yer sleepin', that means yer safe, and ya ain't up worryin'._

"Hello, Jaime," she greeted, and he could actually hear the smile in her voice. A wave of relief washed over him.

            "Sorry. Just... didn't hear from ya' in a while. Started worryin'. Needed t'know yer okay," he said. Sym gave a slight yawn.

            "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. The past week has been particularly exhausting. By the time I get back to my room, I fall right to sleep. I was planning to call you tomorrow. Really, I was..." she started. She called him sweetheart. Sym wasn't one to use terms of endearment like that, and he wasn't sure if it was because she was also feeling guilty, or simply because she wasn't even fully awake.

            "Satya, it's alright. I'm just glad yer okay," he reassured. He could hear rustling as she pulled herself up in bed.

            "We got yer care package t'day. Everyone loved what ya got 'em... Um... I really loved what ya got me, too. Can't wait t'crack inta' everythin'. Want t'wait till ya get back, though. Want th'perfect model for th'first page," he said.

            "I'm glad... Jaime, I love the pendant. It's so beautiful. And all the other gifts from everyone. Will you please tell everyone I said thanks? They mean so much to me. Really, they do. I just don't know when I'll be able to make a proper call, and I feel so wretched for not calling sooner, and..." her voice grew more strained and upset as she leaned more towards another apology.

            "A'course. Satya, why're they workin' ya so hard? That place should be about finished, right? Only got a couple weeks left, yeah?" he said. Sym let out a weary breath.

            "Oh... headquarters decided to call Sanjay back. I am now performing both my job as well as his. It's alright, though. I am making arrangements to come home on New Year's Day. I already ordered my ticket for my flight back to Gibraltar," she said. _That's... that's th'best fuckin' thing I ever heard!_

            "Aw love! I knew y'could do it! Yer gonna' come back, an' Winston is gonna' get those UN suits t'turn things around, an' then you won't ever have t'go back there, an'..." but he stopped talking when he heard the sounds of snores coming through the phone. Though he was a little sad that she had fallen back to sleep mid-conversation, he let out a small chuckle.

            "Sweet dreams, love. See ya’ soon,".

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            Symmetra sat at her desk in her temporary office, and stared at the translucent screen. _I should have called them sooner. I shouldn't have let them worry_. It wasn't until she woke up that morning with the phone still in her hand that she remembered that Jaime had called. She almost thought the whole conversation had been a dream. She felt incredibly guilty for having such a poor excuse for not calling, though she hadn't lied. She often staggered into her hotel room, and would practically collapse into her bed. The past two mornings, she had awoken still in her clothes from the previous day, and even had her shoes still on her feet.

            Probably the biggest reason as to why she didn’t call was because she didn’t know if she could stop herself from telling him about the incident with Sanjay. And she knew that would have been a mistake. Jaime would have flown off the handle, and probably attempt some half-baked "rescue" mission that would most likely land him in prison, or at the very least, get himself thrown out of Overwatch. She couldn't let him do that to himself. Life wasn't a romance novel. She wasn't some princess in a tower, waiting to be rescued. But Sanjay's true colors were starting to show, and he certainly was a villain. Oftentimes, the memory from the incident in her hotel room would flash before her eyes, and send a shiver down her spine. She had never felt so vulnerable; not even when she was in Dorado, with guns pointed at her head.

            And yet, at that moment, she never felt more relieved. Sanjay wasn't there. She at least felt a touch safer in that respect. She tried to use his absence to her advantage, and see what information she could glean. Unfortunately, it was a rather fruitless endeavor. He had either covered his tracks too well, or was smart enough to not leave any behind in the first place. Grasping at straws, she attempted to ask leading questions around the office, but the few other Vishkar employees that worked around her seemed just as much in the dark as she had been. In their eyes, she was the superior, and so she would naturally be more knowledgeable about Sanjay's ongoing endeavors, right? She rubbed her weary eyes. _I need a break. Perhaps a tea is in order..._

            As she walked down the hall of the stark building, she passed by Sanjay's office door. _Locked, of course, and without my projector here, I have no way of getting in._ It was frustrating, really. She regretted not bringing her headset and photon projector with her when she left, but she had purposefully left them behind at Overwatch. Her biggest worry at the time was that Sanjay would try to send her on covert missions, which she did not want to partake in. Leaving her unique tools behind would have allowed her a reason to turn the missions down, though thankfully, it never came to that. She continued onward towards the little-used breakroom, and was surprised to hear people talking.

            " I heard Mr. Korpal was called back to HQ. Wouldn't be surprised if he's trying to make budget cuts again," one man said. Sym lingered outside, silent. A woman scoffed.

            "I don't know where he could possibly make any more cuts. Frankly, I think his ambition is showing. Well, more than usual. If he thinks they'll really let him be on the board of directors, I think he'll be quite disappointed. Those seats are locked in," the woman replied. Office gossip was a rarity at Vishkar, or at least, she had never partaken in it.

            "I just can't wait for this project to be done and over with. I didn't fight tooth and nail to be transferred here, only to have some slave-driver from HQ come in and try and work us to death just so he can get a promotion!" the man snipped. It was a well-known fact that Vishkar’s London office typically held a less stressful workload, and was staffed by less ambitious employees. “Sow only half; Reap all the same” was the unspoken motto. The woman shushed him.

            "Idiot! Keep your voice down! Just because he isn't here doesn't mean he doesn't have that little spy of his roaming around!” she hissed. Sym backed away from the breakroom. _No wonder I can't get an answer from anybody! They all probably think I'm one of his spies!_ As she passed back down the office, lost in thought, she nearly smacked right into the poor janitor.

            "Oh, sorry Miss! Didn't see ya' there!" the older man chuckled. He scooped down to pick up his fallen cleaning rag, and tossed it back onto his supply cart.

            "I think I am the one who owes an apology. I wasn't looking where I was going," she replied. The janitor smiled before taking out a keycard, and swiped it through the lock of the door in front of him. _Oh! He has a master key!_ The plan nearly wrote itself. She waited in her own office, and quietly worked away until long after everyone else on her floor went home. No one would think anything of it, because she was almost always the last one to leave anyways. She approached the janitor with an arm full of papers, and put on a panicked face. _I hope my acting skills are believable!_

            "Oh! Oh blast! No, where is it?! Did he leave it there? He was supposed to give it to me before he left!" Sym mumbled loudly to herself, as she rifled through her stack of papers and binders. The janitor looked up from the rubbish bin he'd been emptying, and seemed to notice her feigned distress.

            "Workin' late again?" the man asked. Sym looked up, and pushed a lock of pre-mussed hair back.

            "Yes, unfortunately, and I can't leave tonight unless I get an acquisition form sent out before midnight! Oh, and I can't find it anywhere!" she explained. The janitor always seemed rather kindhearted, and thankfully he was also rather gullible. He was also from a private cleaning company, and was very unlikely to be an informant for Sanjay.

            "Oh no! That's no good! Anythin' I can do t'help?" he offered, and took off his gray Tidy Troop cap to scratch at his receding hairline.

            "I'm not sure. I'm worried my superior left the form in his office, but he's out of town for the next two weeks!" Sym replied. The janitor beamed a triumphant smile, and held up his keycard.

            "I think I can help with that! Which office is it?" he asked, and Sym lead him to Sanjay's door. The janitor swiped the lock, and opened it for her. Sym took one look at Sanjay's tidy office, and didn't notice any papers lying around.

            "Goodness! He didn't even remember to print it out? Oh, I suppose this is going to take me a while!" she muttered mostly to herself, but just loud enough for the janitor to hear.

            "Aw, no worries, Miss! Door'll lock behind ya' after ya leave, so just make sure t'turn the lights off before ya go!" he instructed. Sym gave a sigh of relief.

            "Thank you, sir! You're a life saver!" Sym said. _No, really! You may very well have saved me!_ The janitor gave her a friendly wave, and head back to his cleaning duties. The door shut behind him, and she set to work examining the office. _He was called away in such haste. Perhaps he did not have time to lock down his computer!_ Her hunch was correct. Sanjay was getting sloppy, and she wondered if maybe he was just as tired and overworked as she was. The translucent screen roused from sleep-mode to an open page. The last sight he'd been viewing was one for a bank. Given that it was the bank of Utopaea, she assumed he had been accessing his personal account. She took a quick look at his recent saved files. Most were forms she had been working on herself; standard Vishkar proposals and contracts. A hasty scan of his computer revealed nothing, unfortunately. She wasn’t entirely surprised. _He wouldn’t be THAT stupid._

            Sym began to carefully go through his desk: files, papers, binders, and typical office supplies. There seemed to be nothing of importance, until she got to a bottom drawer. At first glance, it was filled with more of the same. She went to slide the drawer shut, but her finger passed over something on the underside of it. It felt like a lock! She crouched down, and looked. The drawer had a false bottom! She smirked to herself, reached up to her bun, and pulled out a couple hairpins. _I suppose Hana would call this “old school” spy work!_ It had been a long time since she had to physically pick a lock, but the skill came back to her rather quickly. The lock clicked open, and the bottom opened up. Out slid a tablet. She examined the device as she tucked the pins back in her hair.

            It was not standard Vishkar tech. The further she looked at it, the further she noticed the lack of any sort of branding. The casing was sleek and black. She turned it on. The screen lit up, and to her surprise, there was no form of log-in. There were several files, a messenger application, and that was about it. She opened them up, and gave a quick look. Her eyes widened in shock. _Oh my gods! Oh, you viper! I think I have you now!_ What little she could see started to paint a picture she hadn’t quite expected. She started with the messenger app, where a chat with an anonymous user remained.

            “No more negotiating. Pay, or the deal is off,” the nameless messenger said.

            “You strike a hard bargain, but I suppose one has to pay for quality. I am transferring in small increments. Any higher, and Vishkar may flag it.” Sanjay responded. There were a few repeated messages of sending and receiving payment. The amounts all varied as well. _Perhaps he did so to play them off as personal expenses. That would appear less suspicious, I suppose._ After the tenth installment, there was one more message from the unknown user.

            “Full payment received. A pleasure doing business with you. Sending the contract via an encrypted file. See you in February.”. Symmetra attempted to open several files. They all seemed to be encrypted, with log-in information. All, save for one. It was a formal acceptance contract that had already been digitally signed by Sanjay dated for February 8th of the upcoming year. He was accepting the offer of the vacant board seat left in the wake of Mr. Gupta’s passing. Or rather, would. Gupta was still very much alive. She had spoken to him only three hours ago. _That monster is planning an assassination for a board seat? His ambition really IS showing. But why did he push the date on the Tranquility Center?_ She took a breath in. The information she found was more than she had expected, but there were still far more unanswered questions.

            She had enough information to at least put Sanjay away, and could possibly turn him into the authorities on that information alone, but would that be justice enough? Two men had worked themselves to death, and for what purpose? And why had Vishkar called him back? There had to be something going on, and the company still needed to answer for the atrocities that were committed in Rio. She heard the steps of the janitor coming back by. She didn’t want to risk him seeing her still in there, and grow suspicious. He may not have been a Vishkar employee, and privy to how the company operated, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t notice something fishy. She placed the tablet back in its hidden compartment, and hid a compact teleporter base behind a larger silk plant and coat rack. _I will come back to this later!_ She grabbed a random file out of a drawer, and walked out past the older man.

            “Found what you were lookin’ for, Miss?” he asked. Sym gave a smile in thanks.

            “Yes. Thank you. How does the phrase go? You really saved my bacon? I have found what I needed,” Sym said. _And then some!_


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rat learns about a certain gala that a certain architech will be attending. Both Sym and Rat spend Christmas in a way they didn't expect.

            "I want to thank you all for your hard work yesterday. I was monitoring transmissions from the supply trucks, and it doesn't appear they were able to get a distress call out to Talon. On top of that, there appeared to be very little damage done to the cargo itself," Winston reported. Junkrat rolled his eyes, knowing the last part was a slight dig at him. He had exercised serious restraint out in the New Mexico desert, but when you worked in explosives, collateral damage was an inevitability. Thankfully, the truck in the convoy that he managed to destroy was only carrying basic sundries: plain black uniforms, dry goods, and cleaning supplies. The most important vehicles (the ones carrying medical supplies and things of that nature) had been left intact. Lúcio gave a wave to get Winston's attention.

            "Have you decided what's to be done with the cargo we took in?" he asked.

            "After topping ourselves off, I would like to see the rest redistributed to those in need. I'm sure you'll know what to do with it," Winston replied with a smirk. Lúcio's temporary stint at Overwatch had been an interesting experiment. At first, Junkrat didn't see the point in him helping out for such a short amount of time. They only had a couple small missions in the works. He wasn't exactly a fighter, either. That wasn't to say he hadn't been incredibly helpful when the fight eventually did break out. His audio tech jammed the enemy’s communication channels, and while he wasn't the skilled medic that Angela was, he still managed to patch people up well enough to keep them in the fight. But Lúcio's real purpose started to show in Gibraltar. He was helping Winston make contacts for more private funding, and tried to assist him with communications with the UN.

            "Oh yeah! Those medical supplies will go a long way in what's left of the favelas, as well as the outer refugee camps!" Lúcio replied.

            "Don't get me wrong. I like playin' Robin Hood just as much as the next guy, but what's the story with the UN? We getting any closer?" Jesse interrupted, changing the subject. Winston grew slightly annoyed at the mention of the UN. None of his ambassador connections had responded to his messages.

            "Well, I do have SOME news pertaining to that. I finally managed to get ahold of the British ambassador. He's always been rather helpful in the past. He'd like to speak more about it face to face, and would like a copy of the intel as well," Winston started.

            "He's my third cousin twice removed on m'mum's side!" Lena piped with a big grin, and Winston gave a quick snort at her interruption.

            "Yes, and he is also rather generous. He sent us a few tickets to a New Year's Eve gala, which I plan on attending,". _Gala? Blegh. That's a fancy word for a party that ain't fun!_ Junkrat and Roadhog had crashed one once in their hay day, and while it had been lucrative (rich people sure did love their expensive jewelry and watches), it had been a real eye-opener as to what the upper-crust considered entertaining. 

            As always, Winston went on a few more details before wrapping up, and dismissed the crew from the debriefing. After a few hours in the workshop, Junkrat head over to the mess hall to grab a quick lunch, and sat next to Hog, who (as per usual) was busy reading. He thought for sure it would be the mermaid book he bought when they had gone gift shopping for Sym, but to his surprise, he was thumbing through "The Nutcracker". Junkrat gave an uncomfortable grimace at the title. _Yeesh, Hog! I don't even wanna' know what that's about!_ He didn't want to interrupt his reading, and was thankful when Hana and Lúcio sat down next to him just so he'd have somebody to talk to.

            "Girl, you going to that gala?" Lúcio asked at some point during the meal. Hana shrugged.

            "Don't get me wrong. I bet the food will be good, and I'm always for getting dressed up, but those charity events are usually pretty boring if you ask me," she said. Junkrat couldn't agree more. He left shortly after, and milled through the halls before stumbling upon an interesting conversation between Mei and Zarya.

            "Don't worry, sweetheart. My foot will be all better in time for the gala," Zarya said. She had been the only one to sustain injury during the mission, though luckily a bullet to the foot wasn't terribly debilitating with both Angela and Lúcio around.

            "Good! Because I've never been to London, and I wanted to be able to see it with you! And I guess it's also a masquerade? I've never been to one of those, either," Mei sweetly replied. _London?! Maybe I could tag along and see Sym!_

            "I wouldn't miss it for the world. Besides, I want to see for myself this Tranquility Center that Vaswani has been working on. Lena thought it would be fun to not tell her we're going, and surprise her," Zarya said. _It's... wait... Sym's gonna' be there?!_ He immediately turned, and started tearing off towards Winston's office. The door was open, and he nearly threw himself inside,

            "I wanna' go! Give me a ticket!" he giddily demanded while holding out his hand. Winston shook his head in an effort to piece together why Junkrat was even in his office in the first place.

            "No," he answered. That was not the answer Junkrat expected. His smile immediately dropped.

            "Why th'hell not?!" he snapped, annoyed at the unexpected refusal.

            "Firstly, you can't just come barging into my office to make demands. You've been here long enough to know that's not how this works. Secondly, I don't need to give you an reason," Winston snapped back.

            "Yeah? Well YOU failed t'mention that the gala or whatever is in London, an' Sym's gonna' be there!". Winston let out a heavy sigh, which turned into a low growl.

            "I told the others not to say anything, but do they ever listen?" he muttered under his breath. Junkrat crossed his arms, and stared the ape down.

            "S'what's th'deal? Why can't I go?" he asked, and he could feel his blood starting to boil.

            "Does the Tower of London ring a bell?" Winston hinted. _...shit..._

            "Been outta' th'news fer almost a year now. I'm sure the police have forgotten..." he started.

            "YOU STOLE THE CROWN JEWELS!" Winston interrupted, pounding his fist on the edge of his desk.

            "I mean... not all of them. Fuck! You know how many crowns were in that bloody vault? I just snagged th'one I liked!" he retorted. It wasn't like England had a shortage of crowns and royal memorabilia. Winston rubbed his forehead in frustration, and Junkrat knew he wasn't making any progress at the rate he was going.

            "I promise I'll be on m'best behavior! And wear a disguise. Heard it's a masquerade, anyways," he quipped.

            "No," Winston repeated. _Fucking goddammit!_

            "Mate, c'mon, don't make me beg. It's Sym! I wanna' see Sym!" he conceded, hoping to appeal to Winston's soft side. The gorilla let out another huff, and looked Junkrat over.

            "I can't even if I wanted to. I only received five tickets. Each is good for a plus-one. You can try Mei, Angela, Torbörn, or Jesse. See if they'll let you tag along. But I am warning you! If you do come, and do something to jeopardize this UN deal, so help me Darwin..." Winston started. Junkrat didn't let him finish, and went running off to find the other ticket holders. _Winston's probably takin' Lena, and Mei is takin' Zarya... doc always liked me! I'll give her a shot!_

            He found Angela in her office, decorating a small Christmas tree. She seemed to be humming to herself while pulling decorations out of a box. Junkrat gave a quick knock, and she looked up from her trimming.

            "Oh! Hello dear! What brings you in? Are you feeling unwell?" she asked, and hooked an ornament on a branch. Junkrat shook his head no.

            "Heard ya got a ticket... was wonderin'... ah... hmmm... Ya weren't plannin' t'go alone, were ya?" he asked. Angela had started to stoop back down to grab another ornament, but paused for a moment at his question. She dug through the box, and grabbed another decoration before answering.

            "Oh, it’s very sweet of you to offer to be my date, but I am already taking somebody," she answered. Junkrat was genuinely surprised.

            "Oh! Uh... who's th'lucky fella'?" he asked. Angela fastened the glass bulb onto another branch.

            "I am taking Fareeha... I thought it would be nice for her to attend an event such as this. Really help her feel that she’s part of the team," Angela explained. Junkrat let out a dejected "oh". Angela was probably his best chance, though he supposed the window of opportunity hadn't fully closed. 

            "I didn't think you'd be interested in something like that, anyways. It's a very formal sort of party, after all," Angela said.

            "Sym's gonna' be there..." he explained. Angela stopped decorating, and turned, slightly shocked.

            "Oh, sweetheart, I had no idea! Had I known, I would gladly invite you in an instant, but it would be rude to uninvite Fareeha at this point. She seems so excited to go. I'm so sorry!" Angela said, while reaching up to pat his cheek. Junkrat told her it wasn't a big deal. After all, she'd be coming home the next day anyways, so it wasn't really a problem. He left her office, and head to the workshop. _Torb's got a ticket!_

"Dere's no way I'm takin' yer skinny butt as me date! Don't care if Sym's gonna' be dere! 'Sides, m'plus-one spot is already filled. Takin' Reinhardt!" Torb explained after Junkrat came in to float the offer of going along with him. Junkrat really didn't expect that answer from him, and scratched his head.

            "Wait a minute. Are you two...?" Junkrat asked, genuinely curious. The more he thought about it, the more he remembered seeing the pair always off together watching movies, or sitting by each other at dinner. Torb shook his head in frustration.

            "Oh, for de love a... No! He's me closest friend, an' he offered ta come along and... be m'wingman," Torb explained. The confusion never left Junkrat's face.

            "I didn't know Reinhardt was a pilot," Junkrat quipped. Torb pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

            "Dat's not... hrgh... A wingman is a friend who helps talk you up to de ladies. Say nice t'ings. Helps ya find a date!" Torb explained. _Oh!_ Junkrat realized he wasn't making any progress with Torb, and left the workshop shortly after. _Need t'find that cowboy!_  

            Jesse was out at the firing range, testing out a few different pieces. He blasted a target with a shotgun, and chuckled to himself at the result. Junkrat waited until he set the gun down before he approached him. He'd be no use to Sym with another bullet hole in his gut. After gaining the cowboy's attention, he suddenly grew a little worried. It was his last opportunity to get in, and he didn't want to blow it.

            "Sooooo... heard ya' got a ticket," he started. Jesse tipped the brim of his hat up to get a better look at the Junker.

            "Hell yeah! Never miss a chance to hit a shindig. Food's usually good. Open bar. And between you and me? I always like to cut a rug," the cowboy replied. _Maybe this won't be a lost cause!_

            "Yeah. Yeah. Listen, mate... ya mind takin' me as yer plus-one?" he finally blurted. Jesse raised an eyebrow, and gave an awkward smile.

            "No offense, Rat, but I like my arm-candy to be a bit easier on the eyes, if you catch my drift. Besides, I already got a date," he answered.

            "Well, shit! ... wait, what? Who?!" Junkrat asked. He certainly didn't expect Jesse to have a date lined up. And honestly, who else could he take? Hana hadn't mentioned anything about being invited. Lúcio wouldn't go once he knew it was a Vishkar event. And Hog? He had a hard time believing his friend would agree to attend that sort of party unless it was in the form of a heist.

            "Sorry partner. Ain't one to kiss and tell, but it ain't anyone from the team," Jesse answered, and shrugged, "why you wanna' go, anyways? The party's gonna' be black-tie, and I don't think you even own a tie! Hell, you barely own a shirt!".

            "Sym's gonna' be there... wanted ta... fuck, I dunno. Wanted t'show up an' surprise her. Thought she might like that sorta' thing," he finally answered. The more he thought about it, the more stupid he felt. What was he going to do? Show up in the only clothes he had, and embarrass her? _Oh, hello, fancy people! What? Me? Oh, just a nasty junker here t'see m'drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend. Yeah, I don't get what she sees in me, either. Oh! Have ya' seen m'wanted poster? Yeah! I'm a real catch, ain't I?_

            "Aw, hell Rat! That's real damn sweet. Had I known that... well, I still would have asked my date. It's been a while. You understand, don't you? Besides, she's comin' home the next day anyways," Jesse reasoned. Junkrat let out a dejected sigh in agreement, and took off. At dinner, Hana noticed what a miserable sad-sack he was.

            "You want to go to that thing? Why?" she asked as he poked away at his lasagna.

            "It's gonna' be at that place Sym built... She's gonna' be there. Don't really matter, though. She's comin' back the next day, so I guess I'll just wait it out," he replied. Hana's eyes popped open.

            "What?! Well damn! No one told me that! If I'd have known..." she started, but trailed off, lost in thought. Junkrat shrugged.

            "S'alright. Christ, could ya' imagine me squeezin' inta' one a those ridiculous suits? Think hell'd freeze right over!".

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            Sym awoke on Christmas morning to find the hotel rather quiet. Most of the staff seemed to have the day off, and the other guests in the rooms around her appeared to be out celebrating the holiday. Sym walked the three miles to the London office, and let herself into the empty building. _I might as well work._ _It's not like I have anything better to do._

            The rest of the Vishkar staff was gone for the day, and though many of the employees didn't celebrate the holiday, they still used the excuse to close the office. What point was there in working when so much of the city was closed up around you? She did a thorough scan of her floor. Even the janitors were gone, and the only "person" around was a security drone. She knew the rounds the bot made, and focused on paperwork until she heard the quiet purr of its processor pass by her door. A moment later, the elevator beeped, and the bot climbed in to access the next floor. Sym quickly built a teleporter base, grabbed her data drive, and stepped through into Sanjay's office.

            His office was dark and empty, as she knew it would be. She carefully stepped between the large flower pot and coat rack. There had been no sign of anyone entering the room, and she wasn't surprised. She had observed that the cleaning staff often avoided empty offices until the day of the occupant's return. Why clean a room when no one was going to see it? She was very thankful for their lack of attention to detail.

            She had fashioned real lock-picking tools this time around, and it was much easier to get the false bottom to open up. She wasted no time synching up the data drive, and copied the encrypted files. She also took out her phone, and snapped a few pictures of the conversation in the messenger app before turning the device off, and wiping off her fingerprints. Back into its secret compartment it went. She locked it back up, and did a quick wipe for any other possible fingerprints she may have left behind. She pulled the teleporter base away, slid out of the door, and stepped back into her own office. 

_What do I do with these, though?_ The teleporter bases needed to be dismantled, but she couldn't do that without her photon projector. If Jaime were there, he'd gladly offer to blow the bases up for her. She smirked at that thought. Not only did she have that to contend with, but where was she going to hide the data drive? Though her hotel room was safe enough for the time-being, she knew it would be better to get the information to Gibraltar as quickly as possible. Winston could have Athena break the encryption on the files, and then she'd really be able to fill in some blanks. A thought struck her. She grabbed her coat, and awkwardly tucked the teleporter bases against her body. She waited once again for the security drone to pass by, so it wouldn't catch the added bulk on camera, and she made her way back to her hotel room. Once inside, she went to her phone, and began to call the one person in London she hoped she could trust. 

            "Dr. Pennson? Satya Vaswani. I know this is a bad time, but would you be available to talk? It's rather urgent," she quickly greeted shortly after his gruff "hello?". _Oh, I shouldn't have bothered him! It's the holiday! He's probably with family and..._

            "Oh, hello Ms. Vaswani! Well, I dare say, this is a surprise. But no. It wouldn't be any trouble at all. My son and his family are just about to leave for the day. If you'd like, you could come over to my flat. Are you hungry at all? I have plenty of leftovers," he offered.

            "That is very gracious of you, sir. If it wouldn't be too much trouble..." she replied.

            "Nonsense! Come right over! Here! Let me give you my address. It's fairly easy to get to..." he started, and Sym wrote down the address and directions. She thanked the doctor, and stashed the teleporter bases and the data drive into one of her larger handbags. It took her a long while to flag down a cab, but soon enough she was on her way to the flat, and found herself knocking on his door. _What am I doing? Oh my gods, what am I doing? I barely know this man! I shouldn't... I can't... But I don't have anyone else I can trust!_ Before she could change her mind, and leave, the door opened.

            "Come in, dear! Oh, and Happy Christmas! Oh! But that is rude of me. Do you celebrate? Apologies if I've given offense," the man joyfully greeted while ushering her in.

            His flat had appeared very modern on the outside, but the interior was quite different. It had a very classic and homey look about it, though it was still tastefully decorated. She found the floral wallpaper to be a bit garish, but it was offset with the dark wood of the hardwood floors. A large pine tree stood in the open picture window, and it was decorated with garland, strings of popcorn, and ornaments that appeared to have been made by children. A comforting fire glowed in the hearth, and over the mantel she saw several framed photos of various people. She assumed it to be his son and grandchildren. There was a framed photo of an older woman with a kind smile. _His wife? I don't see or hear anyone else though..._

            "You have given none. I don't celebrate, but I do enjoy the imagery. I am sorry for imposing at such short notice, but I didn't know where else to go..." she said. Dr. Pennson offered to take her coat, and he hung it on a rack by the door. He then led her to the dining room, where he appeared to have been cleaning off the table from a very messy meal. The doctor chuckled.

            "My grandchildren thought pelting their food would be a better option than consuming it. I assure you, though, I am quite the cook! Can I fix you a plate? I have turkey, sprouts, all sorts of food left," he offered again. She was about to turn him down, but damn if the scents coming from his kitchen weren't utterly intoxicating! And she wasn't sure what restaurants would even be open on the holiday. She agreed, and the man quickly disappeared into his kitchen. He came out a moment later with a dish piled high with a bit of everything, as well as a small dessert plate for himself.

            "It was good timing on your part. My son and his brood just left to go visit with his wife's family," he informed, and tucked into a slice of pudding. She took a bite of the roast turkey. _Goodness, I have half a mind to have Winston hire you on as a personal chef!_

            "Dr. Pennson..."

            "Please, call me Richard!" he cut in.

            "Very well. Richard, again, I apologize. It's a holiday, and I really shouldn't be bothering you..." she started. He cleared his throat.

            "Ms. Vaswani... I know you wouldn't have called unless it was something urgent. May I ask what's troubling you?" he asked. Sym finished her bite of sprouts before reaching into her bag, and held up the data drive.

            "In short? I may be close to figuring out what is going on with Sanjay and Vishkar. I have some information on this drive, but have no means to decrypt it. I do know a place where it can be sent to, but I am hesitant of doing so myself. I don't know if anyone is watching me, and... oh.. oh now I'm dragging you into this and..." she started, and realized mid-sentence that she was very likely putting the kind man in danger. Richard waved his hand to cut in.

            "My dear, don't worry about it. If anyone comes asking, I can simply say you've taken me on as your therapist. My patients are always welcome to contact me at any time, and I have doctor-patient confidentiality on my side," he said, giving her a comforting smile. She breathed a small sigh of relief, and could see why he was such a good doctor. The man practically oozed genuine warmth and sincerity.

            "Thank you. If... if it's not too much trouble, I just need you to ship this out, as well as these," she said, pulling the teleporter bases out of the bag. Richard raised his eyebrows in slight alarm.

            "They're nothing dangerous, I assure you. Just trying to cover my tracks," she explained. Realizing they weren't anything explosive, he relaxed a touch. Sym pulled out a slip of paper with the post office box in Gibraltar that they'd need to be shipped to, and the man scanned it.

            "Gibraltar? Ms. Vaswani... you wouldn't happen to be sending this to the defunct Overwatch facility, would you?" he asked. Sym's heart stopped beating. _Oh, oh I'm an idiot! A complete idiot!_

"There's no need to worry. As it so happens, my late wife used to work for the organization," he explained. _Oh! Well, this is something I certainly didn't expect!_

            "Is that right?" she nervously responded. Dr. Pennson gave a nod.

            "Yes. Her role was rather administrative. She worked in their London facility. Well, back when there was one. Oh, the day she lost her job really broke her heart. She loved that place. It had its troubles, to be sure, but deep down she knew that they stood for something good," he explained. Sym took in a deep breath.

            "It is indeed going to the old watchpoint, though now it is no longer defunct. In truth, Winston has spearheaded a secret Recall... that was the assignment I was on when I was called back to this project," she said. Dr. Pennson looked slightly surprised, but smiled.

            "Well, I think that's a damn good thing! Between you and me, I think the world could really use a few heroes right about now!".

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            Junkrat awoke to something he didn’t quite expect. Jesse was pounding on his door, and hollering his name. Junkrat sat up in his bed, and rubbed his blurry eyes. _Th’fuck? We under attack? What’s he goin’ on ‘bout?_ Jesse kept pounding away, and Junkrat tumbled out of his bed. He quickly popped on his peg, and hobbled to the door.

            “Whuh’th’fuck, mate? It’s six in th’ bloody mornin’!” he growled. Jesse had a big grin on his face, and shook his shoulder a bit.

            “It’s Christmas, partner! C’mon!” the cowboy beamed. Junkrat scratched his head, and everything began to come together. He didn’t get anyone anything, so he and Hog had volunteered to do up another barbeque for dinner later that night. Still, he didn’t understand why the cowboy had woken him so early. To him, it was just like any other morning.

            “So? Go back t’sleep, ya’ dipstick,” he growled, and was about to shut the door in Jesse’s stupid face.

            “You got presents to open, dumbass!” Jesse sassed back. Junkrat rubbed his eyes some more.

            “Well, why didn’t ya’ say so?”. In the common room stood a large pine tree that had been decorated. The room itself was a garish explosion of green and red, and wrapped gifts littered the ground under the tree. The rest of the crew seemed nearly as giddy as Jesse, though he noticed many of them were also sporting mugs of coffee or tea. The gift exchange commenced, and he was rather surprised to find that most of the team had gotten him and Hog a few things. Junkrat’s gifts mainly consisted of clothes and soap. _I think they’re tryin’ t’tell me somethin’…_

            He was still not fully awake, but he did manage to mumble a quick thanks to everyone as he opened up the boxes. If his brain had been fully operational at that moment, he probably would have enjoyed it all immensely. It was a chaotic whirlwind of shredded paper, giddy conversation, and material gain, but being awake before the sun rose kind of took the enjoyment out of it for the Junker. At some point or other, somebody handed him a mug of tea, and that helped a bit.

            Later that day, he and Hog set out to get started on dinner for the crew, and Mei came out to temporarily freeze the water in the pool. She turned it into a makeshift ice-rink, and the team was delighted to slide across the surface. Being fully awake at that point, Junkrat was feeling much more playful, and gave ice skating a go. He immediately fell on his ass, and decided that skating was going right under swimming on his list of things he never wanted to try ever again. Dinner was fun enough, though it was there, surrounded by everyone enjoying themselves, that he started missing Sym something fierce.

            It all reminded him so much of the summer, when the team had their barbeque and bonfire, and Sym ventured out for the first time in nearly two weeks. There, they had their first real conversation, and it was the first time he truly observed how beautiful she was. At that bonfire, she made him want to become a better person. Not just to impress her, but because he truly wanted it for himself. He didn’t see it at the time, but that was the moment he realized he hadn’t found just a friend. He had found somebody truly special. _Why can’t ya’ be here right now?!_

            Dinner wound down, and he head to Sym’s room for the night. He opened the door, and barely stepped in before he noticed something strange. There was a large box on the bed, fully wrapped with a big orange bow. He raised a curious eyebrow, and examined the box. _A gift for when she gets back?_ There was a tag on it, and he decided to check to see who it was from. The tag merely read: **Ratboy!** _It’s f’me? What’d Pipsqueak get me?_ He had a lot of questions just then. Why didn’t Hana just give him the gift in the morning with all the others? Why did she put it in Sym’s room? How did she even get it into Sym’s room? He shrugged his shoulders. He’d figure that out later. He undid the ribbon, tore through the paper, and opened the box.

            Inside was, of all things, a black tuxedo! He stared at the clothing, confused, and shocked. It was then that he noticed the mask nestled at the top. It was gray, sported rounded rat ears, and had a gold crown at the top. He grabbed the mask, and lifted it up. From it fluttered a piece of paper. He snatched it, and saw Hana had left a note.

 

_Ratboy, or should I say Rat King?_

_Celeb status sure does pay off! You’re gonna’ be my plus one! Well, plus two, actually. And don’t worry! Already called Satan. Told that bitch he better bundle up, because hell is about to feel the arctic chill!_

_-Everyone’s favorite D.Va!_

            “Aw, Pipsqueak! This is… this… Thanks!” he said to himself, and couldn’t stop grinning. Then he noticed the small post-script at the bottom of the note.

_PS: Your dancing lessons start tomorrow!_

“Oi, what th’fuck?!”


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sym and Rat get ready for the gala. For Rat, the ridiculous production that Hana has pulled together is about to begin. For Sym, it's a moment of quiet reflection to prepare herself for what she must do.

            On a hot sticky morning at the height of summer, the little girl woke before dawn. She rose from the thin and tattered mattress that had been tossed in a corner of the floor, and went out into the streets of the crowded city. She walked three miles in worn-out sandals across the rough cobblestone sidewalks. She nearly stepped on a broken bottle, but managed to dodge at the last moment. It wouldn't have mattered, really. She had a substantial callus that had built up over the year.

            The school room was crowded, and she didn't have much choice but to stand outside to peer through the window. The teacher wouldn't let her in anyways. He didn't teach students that didn't speak. He had told her he couldn't teach her if she couldn't answer questions. _I can speak. I just don't want to speak to you!_ The man launched into his lesson of long division, and she grabbed a stick to mark in the dirt the same numbers and calculations that were written upon the chalkboard. She really didn't need to hear his voice. She just needed to see what he wrote down. Numbers and letters always made more sense to her than spoken words.

            The lessons only went for half of the day, as most of the children had to get home to their families. The little girl tried to leave before the other children, but had lost track of time while she drew pictures in the dirt. The door opened, and the children came pouring out. Their laughter and screams of excitement startled her, and she dropped her stick in the soil.

            "Hey, look everybody! The bhut is back!" one boy sneered. _I am not a bhut! I cast a shadow, and my feet point the right way!_ She started to slowly back away.

            "Silent Satya doesn't say a word! Silent Satya doesn't need to be heard!" a trio of girls cackled. It was a chant they had come up with several months ago, and it was their favorite song to sing. Another boy scooped up a rock, and pelted it at her. It caught her in the forehead, and left a small gash. She could feel the blood trickle down to her eyebrow. Frightened, she turned and ran back to the little shack she called home, where her mother waited in the doorway.

            "You went back to the school again, didn't you?" her mother scolded. Satya shook her head yes.

            "Use your words," she instructed, and by the tone in her voice, Satya knew it would be a bad idea to not comply.

            "Yes, mama," she answered. Her mother hissed a few obscenities under her breath.

            "If you don't want to get hurt, then you shouldn't go. Come along. It's bath day," she snipped, and started walking. Satya followed behind, dutifully. Bath day was always her favorite, and she didn't want to risk missing out.

            The building her mother worked in looked rather impressive from the outside, but the closer one got, the more one would notice the chipped paint, the cheap fabric of the drapes, and the holes worn through the rugs. Satya was never sure what it was her mother actually did there. All she knew was that she'd go into a room, like all the other women. Men would come and knock at their doors, and go in. What would happen from there was anyone's guess. Satya would never linger. She would always head straight to the back, where a trio of older silver-haired women washed sheets and blankets. One of them popped her head up at the sound of Satya's shuffling.

            "Oh! My little bird has come to see me!" Shanti smiled. She may have been missing several teeth, but the kindness in her eyes made her the most beautiful person in Satya’s mind. She pulled up an empty wood tub, and filled it with buckets of hot clean water. Satya pulled her clothes off, and stepped in. Shanti came over with a bar of soap, and helped the little girl scrub the dirt away.

            "I found some rose soap today! Now you will smell like a pretty flower. Would you like that? Oh! Oh little one! Where did you get that nasty cut?" Shanti said, and dabbed a cloth at the gash on her forehead. Satya winced at the sting, but said nothing.

            "Who hurt my little bird? Was it your mama?" Shanti asked. Satya shook her head no.

            "The children, then?" she asked. Satya shook her head yes, and Shanti gave a sad sigh as she began to scrub one of Satya's arms.

            "Pay them no mind. A bird doesn't need to sing in order to fly. I hope you fly far, Satya. Maybe then you'll find a reason to sing."

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            **My flight was delayed. Will be arriving late to the gala. I appreciate your hard work and understanding. -S**

Symmetra breathed a sigh of relief at the text message on her phone. Sanjay was going to be late. Thank the gods! She wouldn't have to ride out with him. Though, in the back of her mind, she also worried that he might not show at all. That would ruin her carefully laid plan. Dr. Pennson had given her the receipt with the tracking number for the package. He had done as she instructed, and shipped the items she needed, but due to the New Year holiday, they wouldn't arrive in Gibraltar until the day after her return. She had no way of knowing what information was on the drive, much less if any of it even pertained to Vishkar, and she didn't want to miss an opportunity to gain some valuable information. 

            Finding the information she'd hoped for would require some careful coaxing, though she was sure if she worded things correctly, she could probably get the answers she needed out of Sanjay. He had always been arrogant, and thought himself to be far cleverer than she. After all, he never failed to remind her who was the superior in their working relationship. _And his arrogance will be his downfall!_ She knew she was treading through dangerous waters, which was why she didn't dare tell anyone at the watchpoint about her plan. If things fell apart, she didn't want to drag the team down with her. She couldn't let that happen to such good people. _An assassination is no longer outside the realm of possibilities._

            She took great care in dressing that day. A long bath was vital for steadying her nerves, as was always the case. She brushed her hair, and spent a long while styling it into an elegant chignon at the base of her neck. She tucked the gold headband from Pharah into her hair, and carefully hooked her earrings. She did a quick test to see if they were working by recording her voice, and playing it back. The idea had struck her to integrate the recording device somewhere subtle that Sanjay wouldn't notice. She had always worn prominent earrings. He wouldn't think twice about her selection. _Now if I can just get him to talk!_

            She began to apply her makeup, paying extra attention to the dark half-moons under her eyes. She was quite ready for a real night of sleep, and cursed at herself for booking a red-eye flight the next morning. _It's alright. I can sleep all I want when I get to Gibraltar._ A thick layer of concealer took care of the shadows. Once her face was set, she undid the belt of the hotel bathrobe, and let it slip to the floor. A few spritzes of perfume were quickly applied before pulling on her lingerie, and stepping towards the dress hanging on the back of her door.

            She stepped through the skirt, pulled it up, and zipped up the side. The dress had to be taken in a couple inches, much to her surprise. She hadn't noticed the weight she dropped over the month and a half, and figured her erratic schedule was to blame. She had only managed to sneak in one real meal a day over the last two weeks. _I am going to stuff myself silly when I get back! Perhaps Jesse will make me pancakes if I ask nicely!_ She took the gold brocade sash, and draped it over her left shoulder. Her fingers curled around the gray velvet case as she popped it open, revealing the brilliant sapphire inside. Removing the piece, she carefully pinned it at her waist to hold down the bottom folds of the metallic sash. _There, Jaime. I have you at my side. What more strength do I need?_ Her feet slid into gold flats, and she slowly placed the peacock mask over her face. Symmetra took one last glance in the full-length mirror.

            _Whatever happens, happens._ She grabbed her purse, and did a final check of her hotel room to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. Feeling satisfied, she took in a deep breath before opening the door.

           

            ... _but one thing is certain. I can't go back to Vishkar._

_.           .           .           .           ._

 

            "I'm startin' t'think this is a bad idea, which is sayin' somethin', considerin' I thought gunpowder'd be a perfect substitute for pepper once," Junkrat said as Hana handed him a pair of boxer briefs.

            "Look Rat, you're a free spirit... in more ways than one... I get that, but those pants I picked out are awful tight, and, well, not everyone wants to see your junk in upsetting detail. So put those on already, okay?" Hana explained. The gala was turning into more trouble than it was worth. Hana had gone off the deep end preparing for it, and the whole thing was slowly turning into an absolute production. The dance lessons were by far the most ludicrous endeavor. Lucio provided music while Hana played both his partner and instructor. He ended up crushing her foot, and boy, was it ever difficult to explain to Angela how she managed to break two toes in two days. Hana wanted to keep the whole thing secret from everybody, because she thought it would "add to the fun and magic" (whatever that meant). Junkrat hopped into his water closet with the boxer briefs in hand, and closed the door.

            "Fuckin' hell, these things are tiny! Ugh! Why do blokes even wear these? Christ, everythin's all smooshed in there. Don't think m'danglies have been that high since I was seven!" he rambled. Years of being free below the belt did not lend itself well to the sudden constricting sensation.

            "Okay, if we're doing this, you need to stop with the descriptive imagery. Here! Got the pants!" Hana said, holding them behind her with her back turned towards the door. Junkrat cracked it open, and grabbed the fabric from his friend's hand. He struggled to get them on one-handed. They were much more form-fitting than his shorts, and clung to his legs as he pulled at the waistband. Eventually, he managed to get them done up.

            "Christ! These are even tighter! ...but they make m'ass look good, so there's that!" he said, as he examined his backside as best he could in the mirror.

            "What ass?" Hana snickered, as he hopped out of the water closet.

            "Shut it! Alright, now what?" he asked. Hana handed him a crisp white collared shirt, and Junkrat sneered at it. _Too clean! Yick!_ Hana gave him a glare, and he pulled the shirt on. The whole week had been spent getting ready for it, but nothing could mentally prepare him for the fact that he was becoming the very thing (second to Omnics) that he hated most; a bloody suit! Hana reassured him that tuxedos were different from suits, but it was all the same to him. 

            Not only had he scrubbed himself until he was practically pink, but she had even cut his fucking hair! _Well... she just trimmed out th'burnt ends, so that ain't too bad, I guess._ Oh, and as if the trim wasn't bad enough! She combed it, too! There he was, all clean and neat, wearing pants, a shirt with buttons, and squished into the tightest undershorts imaginable. _Sym, darl? You better appreciate th'fuck outta' this! Cause it ain't happenin' ever again!_

            "Can't do up the buttons without m'other arm, an’ where's yer plus-two?" he asked. She still hadn't told him who was tagging along with them, though he just assumed it would be Lúcio with a mask that covered his entire face. While the musician hated Vishkar, the thought of crashing their party did tend to bring a smile to his already perpetually-grinning face. There was a knock on his door, and Hana opened it. There stood Hog...in a partially done-up tux...and a new mask. Junkrat, for once in his life, was utterly speechless.

            Hog's tux was tailored to fit him quite well. He still sported some of his rings, though they had all been scrubbed clean. His usual leather face cover had been replaced with a surprisingly elegant boar mask. It was black, and gleamed with silver tusks. Junkrat could make out the edges of the breathing apparatus tucked into the bottom of the snout, and the mask was cut in such a way as to expose his mouth so he could eat and drink with ease.

            "What th'fuck, Hog?!" Junkrat finally stammered. Hog merely shrugged.

            "You think I was gonna' miss out on you makin' a tit a yerself in that monkey suit yer wearin'?" Hog rumbled, while handing Junkrat his freshly-painted arm and peg leg. The larger Junker had offered to paint his appendages to look new, and he certainly did a fantastic job. They gleamed with black enamel, and glints of gold paint at the joint pieces. Junkrat quickly popped the pieces on, and fumbled with the tiny buttons of his shirt.

            "Aw, c'mon..." Junkrat mumbled, feeling embarrassed. Hana stepped over, and her nimble fingers did the buttons up in an instant. She took a peek at her phone (which he had given back to her), and panicked. 

            "Shit! It's that late already?! We gotta' fly! Literally! Grab the rest of your stuff! We can finish on the plane ride!" The trio ran to the hangar, and piled into Hana's car. While typically spacious for most people, it was a rather tight squeeze for Hog, who ended up taking up the entire back seat, and had to open the sunroof so there'd be room for his head. They scrambled onto Hana's private jet, and went back to getting ready. Hana ducked behind a curtain, switched into her hot pink dress, and popped back out. Junkrat sat in his seat, perplexed by the silk tie in his hand. It was the last thing he had to put on (apart from the jacket and mask), and he had no clue how to tie the fancy knot. He turned to Hog, who also held up his tie in confusion.

            "Ya’ know how this shit works?" he asked. Hog shook his head no.

            "Been too long. Don't remember," the mammoth Junker replied. Hana rolled her eyes, and brought up her phone. She did a quick internet search before finding a tutorial video. First, she worked on Rat's tie. It felt awkward as she tugged his head down, and wrapped the silk around him. After finally knotting it, she smoothed his collar down, and turned to Hog.

            "Rat, give me a boost!" she instructed. Junkrat grabbed her by her tiny waist and held her up so she could do up Hog's tie. Having finally finished getting ready, the three sat in silence for a moment, accepting the utter ridiculousness that was the whole scenario; Two massive Junkers tagging along as the official dates of a pro-gamer sporting a hot pink cocktail dress and a white bunny mask.

            "Fuck! No wonder suits are so shitty all th'time! I'd be in a pissy mood too if I had ta' where this shit every day!" Junkrat grumbled as he fussed with the collar. He felt like he was being choked by somebody with a very weak grip. Between the shirt, the vest, and the tailed-jacket, he felt hot and uncomfortable. He’d never worn so many layers before. Hana's tiny hand whipped out, and smacked his fingers away.

            "Stop fidgeting! You look great! Now! Why are we doing this again?" she asked. Junkrat thought the question was rhetorical, and remained silent. She snapped her fingers.

            "Rat! Why are we doing this again? C'mon! Say it!" she ordered. Junkrat's eyes darted to the floor for a moment.

            "Cause I love Sym," he awkwardly said.

            "And because..." she prodded.

            "And because I'm gonna' sweep her off her feet," he said, repeating Hana's mantra that she had uttered non-stop over the previous few days.

            "And why's that?" she asked, prodding him further. Junkrat rolled his eyes.

            "Because romance ain't dead?". Looking over her Junker friends, Hana seemed perfectly satisfied with her hard work.

            "You're damn right it ain't!"

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            Symmetra scanned the ground floor as she entered. She had purposefully arrived early to better prepare herself for the night to come. She had been to formal events before, and while she didn't find the atmosphere as panic-inducing as the club that Hana had chosen, she knew there was still a possibility that she might feel overwhelmed. She couldn't have that happen; certainly not when she was on a mission. 

            The open atrium was decorated rather elegantly with twinkling lights across the ceiling. There was a bit of a stand in front of the dance floor, and a podium as well. A few dignitaries and people of interest were supposed to give speeches during dinner, and as she looked at the itinerary she was pleased to discover that Dr. Pennson would also be speaking. The small orchestra began to set up along one side, and busied themselves with tuning their instruments. The caterers and wait staff walked through to do a final sweep before more guests started to arrive. They hardly paid her any attention.

            She located her table, which, thankfully, was towards the edge of it all. She had a clear path to lead her away from the crowd, as well as the outer gardens and fountain should she start to feel anxious. She looked at the names on the cards to find her seat. Sanjay's name was on the card next to hers. _Oh, I think not._ She quickly swapped his card with the person two seats over. She didn't know who Michael Williams was, but surely he'd be a better neighbor than Sanjay. _I don't think I'd be able to get him to divulge secrets at dinner anyways. I will have to try to lure him somewhere quiet. Perhaps after a few drinks, when his guard is down._

            One by one, guests began to slowly trickle in for the cocktail hour, and she could feel an all-too-familiar knot form in her stomach. Sym found a server walking by with some sort of concoction that would probably aid in taking the edge off, and she sipped the vibrantly red drink. The crowd thickened considerably over the course of a half hour, and a familiar face came over.

            "Ah! Ms. Vaswani! I nearly didn't recognize you without your work uniform, though your arm was a dead give-away. Glad to see you made it out!" Richard greeted, and shook her hand. His mask was a simple steel gray that matched the color of his hair and mustache. Sym gave a thin smile.

            "Yes, well, I am not one to miss an opportunity such as this," she replied. He gave her an odd look, and leaned in close.

            "An opportunity? I'm not sure what you have planned, but please exercise caution," he muttered under his breath so no one else could hear. She gave the smallest nod in response. She felt her phone vibrate through her purse, and checked it. She had received another message from Sanjay.

**Will be there in time for dinner, should anyone ask. -S**

 

            Sym grimaced, and tucked the phone back into her purse. No one would. At least, no one from the London office. The vast room filled with conversation, and Sym mingled around the edges. She swiped a few hors d'oeuvres off of a tray, and nibbled them as quickly as possible. Once Sanjay actually did arrive, there was a very real possibility that she'd lose her appetite entirely.

            "Oh my gosh you're so pretty!" a very familiar (and very unexpected) voice piped behind her. Sym gave a slight yelp, and whipped around to see Lena's beaming smile. She was dressed in a flirty cheetah-print dress underneath her glowing accelerator, and sporting a shimmery black cat mask. Standing next to her was Winston, and it was, well, quite the sight to see him done up in a tuxedo. His mask only covered the right half of his face, and it reminded her of The Phantom of the Opera.

            "Oh goodness! What? How? Who?" Sym stammered. She looked up and noticed the rest of the team coming over. Her heart started to race with excitement, but also dread. _No! No you shouldn't have come! Oh! This ruins everything!_ It wasn't that she didn't want them to be there, but the last thing she needed was a reminder to Sanjay that she had people in her life that she cared for, and she'd be damned if she'd let him use them as leverage against her.

            "We managed to get a few tickets from the British UN ambassador, so some of us decided to come pay you a visit!" Winston answered, and gave her a knowing look. _Oh! You have a plan of your own, I see._ She gave them all a warm smile, and welcomed them.

            “Perhaps after dinner, I can give you all a grand tour. I have VIP access to the facility, as it were,” she offered.

            "You built this place, Vaswani? Impressive!" Zarya complimented. Sym did a double-take. Zarya was wearing a dress, and, well, she looked damn good in it! The chocolate brown number hugged her muscled frame, and a slit up the thigh revealed she was wearing pointed flats. Her mask was that of a brown bear. Mei matched with a white bear mask, and her white gown transitioned to icy blue towards the bottom. They made quite the pair.

            "Vaswani designed it, Zarya. Though I wouldn't put it past her to pop on a hard hat and show the construction crew who's in charge," Pharah smirked from behind a feathered falcon mask. It seemed Angela, who stood at her side, chose to match her in white.

            "Yes, well, Pharah is correct. I merely did the designing, and oversaw the final stretch of construction," Sym corrected. She noticed Reinhardt (who wouldn't?), and to her surprise, Torb as well. _Gods! Did the whole team come? ...wait... is Jaime?_

            "Goodness! It seems quite a few of you made it out. Did, um... did?" she started, but felt awkward for even asking a question she already knew the answer to.

            "I'm sorry dear. We only had so many tickets. I'm afraid Junkrat, Hana, and Roadhog couldn't make it," Angela apologized. _This wouldn't have been their sort of event, anyways. They would be bored to tears._

            "I understand. And Jesse? Where's he?" It didn't take long to locate him. Though he was in a tux, he still came in wearing his brown cowboy hat, and he made his way over to the open bar. Sym almost snorted at the sight. _Ah! Found him!_ Reinhardt, who gleamed with a gold lion mask, leaned down to her ear.

            "He says he's meeting a date here. Ve're all very intrigued. Any vagers as to who it may be?" he asked. Sym shrugged her shoulders.

            "I haven't the foggiest," she replied. Winston spotted the ambassador, and excused himself from the group. Lena followed right behind him. One by one, the team trickled away to enjoy themselves, and Sym, feeling a torrent of emotions, excused herself as well. _They weren't supposed to be here. Sanjay will be here at any moment! Why did they come? I may need to abort my plans._ She found breathing in the crowded atrium had grown difficult, and stepped away to find the door to the gardens and fountain.

            The gardens had been void of landscaping, due to the time of year, but it was lined with heat lamps, and there were benches to sit and gaze at the marble lotus-shaped fountain that trickled and bubbled away. It all fulfilled its intended purpose, and helped calm her. _That's it. I'll just... enjoy the party. I shouldn't put myself in any further danger. I cannot risk bringing harm upon them. I'll just wait until I get back to Gibraltar, and pray the information on the drive is something of use._ She still had the pictures on her phone of the conversation between Sanjay and the hitman, as well as the acceptance letter for the board seat. She hadn’t still hadn’t sent it. In the back of her mind, she worried it wouldn’t be enough evidence. He had always been well-liked amongst the board. They might accuse her of fabricating it herself. After all, who would they believe? Sanjay Korpal; the ever-loyal Vishkar department head, or Satya Vaswani; a mere architech who practically deserted the company and all of her projects for a stint at Overwatch?

_Gods, Jaime! Why couldn't you just be here right now?_ It was a silly notion, really. Him actually being there would only create further problems. He’d be nothing more than further leverage to be used against her. But she wanted him there. She wanted him at her side, and to tell her everything would be alright, and that she had the strength to do what needed to be done. She shook her head.

     The very idea of him actually getting dressed up and coming out to such an event would have been absolutely preposterous. She brushed her fingers along the facets of her sapphire, and took a calming breath. _I should know better than to entertain such fantasies. I suppose that is what I get for reading so many of Hana’s silly romance novels. This is not a fairy story. He is not a knight in shining armor. I am not a damsel, and the only distress I am in is all because I put myself there._ Lost in thought, and focused on the fountain, she didn't hear the footsteps. She didn't notice the movement in her peripheral. Suddenly, there was a person standing at her side.

            "Evenin', gorgeous!"


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Satya have a sweet reunion, but dinner proves to be a challenge for him, and a worry for her.

            Jamison Fawkes could remember in great detail the first time he saw a skyscraper. He and Hog had just ridden into Sydney, and he watched the horizon as gray towers grew taller and taller the closer they got. It took his breath away, and he never thought it possible that he'd ever see anything like it ever again; that nothing could ever come close. He was wrong.

            He climbed out of the limousine Hana had requested, and stood on the pearly white steps of the Tranquility Center. He craned his neck up to stare at the creation before him. It reminded him of a column of crystal, and held a sense of magic about it. _An' Sym built it. That came from her brain, and she put it on paper, and brought it t'life!_ He was mesmerized; transfixed.

            "Look, Rat, I think it's cool too, but I think we should probably get inside before it starts raining," Hana piped, jostling him from his staring. He tore his gaze away from the tower, and nodded. He was about to step inside, and somewhere in there she'd be waiting. He could feel his pulse quicken in anticipation. A flutter had nestled in his stomach as nervousness and excitement waged a war inside him. It was a rather odd sensation, and he didn't know exactly how to handle it. _What if she ain't here? What if she decided not t'go?_  

            Hana seemed to know what she was doing, so he and Hog let her lead the way. She walked through the open doors, and head to the prominent registration table, where they waited (not so patiently) in line. When the tiny gamer approached the table with two well-dressed hulking Junkers in tow, the man at the table stared with a slight look of alarm.

            "Tickets?" he nervously requested, while holding out his hand. Hana reached into her white faux-fur clutch, and pulled out a rather official-looking envelope adorned with a Vishkar logo. She handed it over, and the man took a moment to peruse it. Everything seemed to be in order.

            "Ms. Song, and... guests? The usher will take you to your seats," he said, waving towards another man dressed in a red jacket.

            "How come he gets t'wear red, an' I gotta look like every other wanker in this place?" Jaime hissed in her ear. Hana shook her head and looked back.

            "Black looks good on everybody. It's fancy. Besides, that's how you tell the difference between the guests, and the people that work here! Now shut it!" she hissed back. _Says the girl scamperin' ‘round in hot pink!_ The usher took them into an atrium filled with people, and between the music, the scents, the lights, and the masks, it was all rather disorienting. The usher stopped at a table crammed in the middle of the fray, and pointed them to three empty seats. Their tablemates gave the trio apprehensive looks, but said nothing. Jaime beamed an unnerving grin at them.

            "G'day!" he chirped, while wiggling his prosthetic fingers in a little wave. They did not return the sentiment.

            "Oh! I see Winston! And Reinhardt! Uh-oh. Winston has spotted us!" Hana whispered. Jaime looked over to see the ape had been chatting away with some older man with chestnut hair, but suddenly angry gorilla eyes stared at them with a very annoyed scowl. It was rather obvious he didn’t find their unexpected appearance to be amusing. _Aw, I'm gonna' catch hell f'this... worth it, though._ Winston took a break from his conversation, and started heading their way.

            "Aw, hell... Rat, you better get out of here. Go find Sym! Hog and I will calm the boss down," Hana whispered.

            "Don't have ta’ tell me twice!" he quipped, and disappeared into the thickening crowd. Junkrat scanned the room as he went, but trying to locate Satya slowly started to feel like a fruitless endeavor amongst the ever-increasing number of attendees.

            "Oh my goodness! It can't be! Is that who I think it is?" came Angela's sweet voice drifting from his side. He turned to see the doctor dressed in a shimmering white gown with a matching feather mask. She looked, as her name implied, positively angelic. Pharah stood a bit behind, wearing a long black dress, and a feather mask of her own.

            "Hooly dooly, doc!" he stammered. The medic laughed.

            "Look at you! I knew you would clean up nicely! But how did you get here?" she asked. Jaime pointed off in the distance towards his table.

            "Pipsqueak got us in!" he explained. Pharah's eyes squinted as she peered in the direction he had been pointing.

            "Is that? ... Oh lord! Is that Hog?! Well, isn't this a rare treat!" Angela replied, and a giddy grin broke across her face. Jaime began to feel antsy, and just wanted to get back to finding Satya.

            "Listen, I'll find ya' later, but have ya'..." he started. Pharah cut in, pointing towards an exit.

            "Vaswani stepped out that door. Probably needed some fresh air," she said. Jaime gave a quick thanks, and was about to tear off towards the exit she had pointed out, but Angela grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, and pulled him back a bit. She quickly straitened his tie, smoothed the fabric of his jacket, and gave him a warm smile.

            "There you are, dear. You look very handsome, and she will be very happy to see you!" Angela said, and shooed him towards the door. He gave her a two-finger salute, and made his way over towards the glass doors. It seemed to lead out to some sort of garden. His eyes scanned through the dim outdoor lighting. To his surprise, there were quite a few people milling about, obstructing his view. _Sym... Sym would probably wear blue... and her arm! Arm's a dead giveaway!_ He followed the manicured path, stepping past gala-attendees as quickly as possible. The sound of a trickling fountain floated through the chatter, and for some reason, it felt like the right direction to head towards. Slowly, the fountain came into view... and so did Satya.

            His breath caught for a moment. She did indeed wear blue, and accented in gold, and Christ, she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever set eyes on! His palm began to sweat as an unexpected wave of nervousness washed over him, and his stomach set to fluttering all over again. Gold. Gold like her eyes, and gold like her heart, and everything about her was perfect. There was a small part of him that just wanted to stay there and stare, but he pushed that feeling aside and slowly stepped up over.

            "Evenin', gorgeous!" he greeted, after finally finding his voice. Satya stiffened in shock for only a moment, before quickly whipping around to see him. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she brought her hands up, covering her mouth in disbelief. He smiled. _Holy fuck, have I missed that face!_ She pulled her hands away.

            "Jaime!". Her voice was breathless, her smile was enchanting, and her eyes lit up.

            "Satya..." he replied, adding a teasing lilt to his voice. He bent down and scooped her into a crushing hug, lifting her off her feet, and spun a bit on his heel.

            "What are you doing...?" she started, still in shock.

            "Sweepin' ya off yer feet! Am I doin' it right?" he joked. Hana had told him it was metaphor, but he had taken her mantra quite seriously. Satya let out a little laugh.

            "Well, yes, but what I meant was, how... how?!" she stammered some more, unable to put her thoughts to actual words. Jaime merely chuckled.

            "Does it really matter?" he asked, and leaned down to plant a searing kiss. Oh, he had missed the taste of her, and it felt so damn good to have her back. For a moment, she didn’t give a damn about the people around her. Satya’s arms wound around his neck, and he could feel her fingers mussing up his hair, and he hoped beyond hope that it wasn't all just a dream. She pulled away much too soon for his liking, but he supposed they couldn't stand there forever (though a part of him really wanted to). He set her back on her feet. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out, and she just shook her head in disbelief.

            "Heard 'bout this little party they were throwin' for ya. Boss didn't have 'nough tickets, so Pipsqueak pulled everythin' together. It was her idea, really. Made me wear this ridiculous get-up, an'..." he started to say, but she placed a finger over his lips to silence him.

            "Let me just... have a moment. To remember this, I mean," she said, and stared into his eyes while clasping his hands in hers. He willingly complied. 

            "Christ, just look at'cha'!" he gushed, and his eyes darted at her side, where the sapphire glittered at her waist. _She wore it! She fuckin' wore it!_ He knew she would, but the sight of it still made his grin even broader.

            "I can't believe you're here! Everyone... oh, I need to see Hana, and... wait... Hog isn't here, is he?" she asked. Jaime nodded that he was.

            "Yeah, he came, too. Didn't wanna' miss out on the fancy grub," he snickered. Satya was utterly bewildered.

            "Oh goodness... this will be quite the evening, won't it?" she commented.

            "Think that's a fair wager," he replied with a grin. Her smile quickly transitioned to something different. The excited twinkle in her eyes dimmed, and he recognized it for what it was; she was worried.

            "Satya?" he asked, hoping to coax an answer from her. She squeezed his hands ever so slightly.

            "Jaime... I'm still technically working through the end of this night, and my superior will be here at any moment. I need to make sure he doesn't see us like this. He saw the pendent, and has already guessed that I am involved with someone on the team. I don't want him to know who. He'll start digging further, and when he finds out..." she started, and her voice grew more panicked and worried with each passing second. He kissed her forehead, and her voice died away. He didn't want her to say it out loud. He knew what she was referring to. _Once that git sees m'bounty, I'm done for._ He wasn't happy about it. Not one bit, and he realized that he should have known better than to show up unannounced on her final night in London. _What th'fuck was I thinkin'?!_ But it was too late. He was there with her, and he'd be damned if he was going to let that stupid fuck ruin it all for him.

            "Y'know what? Fuck it. Got m'fake ID. Winston'll know better than t'give him my real info. Tonight, I ain't Jaime. I'm Remy Templeton, alright?" he said. Satya let out a strained laugh.

            "That name is atrocious! But I suppose it's just for when he's around. I have to sit at his table during dinner. I'll try to gauge him better there... and if he finds out, then so be it. I have made peace with the inevitable," she replied. He didn't know how to feel about her choice in words.

            "What's that mean?" he asked. She reached up, and stroked the side of his face.

            "I promised I'd go back to Gibraltar tomorrow, and I intend to keep my promise. That's all," she answered, and, grabbing his hand, began to pull him back towards the atrium doors, "Come now. Dinner will be starting soon,".

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            Satya let go of Jamie's hand the moment they reached the atrium door. Sanjay stood not very far away on the other side of the glass, though, fortunately, he had his back turned towards them.

            "Go. I'll follow in a minute," Jaime whispered, and Satya stepped away as though she had never even registered his presence. Her heart started to pound, and she felt her hand tremble. She instinctively rubbed her thumb across the sapphire, and it brought a small sense of comfort, as well as renewed determination. She stepped across the threshold, and barely got two steps in before Sanjay turned and spotted her.

            "Ah! There you are!" he greeted, and he almost sound friendly. Satya was not fooled. She remained stoic, yet polite.

            "Sanjay. Apart from the late departure, did you have a good flight?" she asked. He gave her a quick nod as they approached their table. The place cards had been switched back, and she tried to not let her surprise show. He pulled her seat out for her, and she thanked him out of habit. She slung her purse across the backing of her chair while Sanjay took his own seat, and a server came by to fill glasses of water. It wasn't until the forced close proximity that she noticed the detailing of his mask. It was made of black snakeskin. Cobra, from the look of it. _How fitting, for a snake like you!_

            "I see your associates from your other project have managed to make it out to see you," Sanjay stated, nodding towards the table where Winston and the rest of the team sat. Her eyes darted, and quickly located Jaime's table. Roadhog was hard to miss, and the sight of him also in a tuxedo and new mask nearly made her start. She was just able to make out Hana, who was absolutely dwarfed in her spot between him and Jaime.

            "Actually, it was rather a surprise. If I remember correctly, Ms. Oxton has a relative who works for the UN. I would assume that's how they obtained tickets. They didn't tell me they'd be coming," she replied. The other guests at their table slowly took their seats, and she realized that she and Sanjay were the only Vishkar employees among them. Their tablemates paid them little mind, which forced Satya to continue conversing with Sanjay for the sake of keeping up appearances.

            "Well, that is rather kind of them. Tonight is a big night for you. Your hard work and dedication have finally come to fruition," he said, and smiled. The smile was small, and forced. It never reached his eyes, which was fairly usual for him.

            "I merely did what was required of me," she stated, and sipped her water. Satya found his feigned positivity unsettling, and she reached to tuck a few stray hairs behind her ear. She brushed the earring nonchalantly, activating the recording device. _I might as well record the whole evening. Who knows what insight I may glean!_

            "Nonsense. I believe I owe you an apology for the way I behaved before I left. I suppose I was just worried your new-found friends would spirit you away from Vishkar. But coming back to see how hard you've worked, well, I suppose my worries were unfounded," Sanjay explained.

            "I'm sorry if I had given you reason to doubt my loyalties. They are a rather tight-knit unit. The comradery has proven rather beneficial in many instances, but I assure you I never let their friendship distract me from my true goals and purpose," Satya reassured. Sanjay took a sip of his own water, and let out a pompous chuckle.

            "That was not what I was referring to, actually... Vaswani, who you choose to take to your bed is none of my business, so long as it does not impede upon your work with Vishkar, of course," he said. Her heart stopped beating for just a moment. Her back instinctively straightened, and she found herself unable to speak.

            "Is he here?" Sanjay asked. _There is no point in lying. He knows, and he'll find out regardless if I remain silent._ Satya forced a nod, and the lights in the atrium began to dim as the first speaker approached the podium.

            "Well, I suppose I have a fun little guessing-game on my hands," he said under his breath just loud enough for her to hear.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            Jaime sat at his table, and tried to remain as still as possible. _Don't bounce. Don't bounce. This place is fancy as fuck. Don't bounce._ He ground his fist into his knee to suppress the urge to fidget. _Christ, will this fuck ever shut up?_ The speaker talked at a snail's pace, annunciating every word. It was pure torture. His eyes flicked towards Satya's table, where she sat rod-straight next to Sanjay. He remembered his face from the time he stumbled upon her conference call with him. _That's th'piece a shit that yelled at her 'bout her arm!_ At least now he could put a face to a name, and lord, did he hate that face. Thankfully, the droning speech came to an end, and the speaker started to step away.

            "Finally!" Jaime murmured. He was starving, and wanted to get through his dinner as quickly as possible. Hana leaned over.

            "Hate to burst your bubble, but there are four other speakers lined up," Hana whispered. Jaime felt his eye twitch. _What th'fuck did I get m'self into?!_ He was not the praying sort, but he pleaded with any deity that would listen that the other speakers would at least keep things brief. _Do it fer Sym. Do it fer Sym._  Eventually, the final speaker, a Dr. Pennson, finished things up with a round of applause to the Vishkar staff for being so diligent in their work, and completing the center ahead of schedule. Something tugged at the back of his mind. _Wait... I thought Sym said they were b'hind schedule. What th'fuck is goin' on?_ It didn't sit well with him, but perhaps the doctor misspoke. The man left the stage, and the orchestra started back up with the music. Jaime watched as the wait staff came out with filled trays. _Thank god!_ He felt a nudge at his ribs, and looked at Hana.

            "Hey! I just noticed... where's Jesse? I don't see him at the table with the rest of the team. Come to think of it, I don't think I've seen him since we first got in. Think his date was a no-show?" she observed. Jaime looked around. She was absolutely right. Two vacant seats remained next to Torb. He scanned the room, hoping to spot him. In all honesty, he was pretty curious, too. He remembered seeing the cowboy roaming around earlier, and he seemed to be seated at the bar, initially, but he didn't spot him there, either. Jaime shrugged. It was a possibility. Jesse struck him as the kind of guy who didn't take rejection well. He also struck him as the type that'd take his date and immediately leave the vicinity to find a cozier spot.

            Their waiter stopped their search for the missing cowboy when he set down a large white plate. In the center was a small sculpted bit of brown... something, with a drizzle of white sauce on top. The drizzle was artfully applied so each piece was topped with a white flower. It reminded him of the fountain outside. He stared at whatever it was, unable to comprehend what was put in front of him. _This... this can't be it? What th'fuck?! All this money walkin' 'round, an' they can't afford a full meal?_ He glanced over to Hog, who also seemed to be examining the tiny portion.

            "First course. Just eat it. There'll be more food after," Hana whispered, and he took a tentative bite after watching her do the same. Whatever it was that he ate, it at least tasted good. Great, actually. It reminded him of mushrooms, and the savory sauce paired perfectly with it. He was upset that he only got one small portion, because he finished it in two bites. The people sitting around them started to talk to one another, and it was an odd feeling to be sitting amongst people he'd never met, listening to conversations he'd never be a part of. An older bald man sitting next to him took a peek at Hana.

            "Young lady. I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but you just look so familiar, even with your mask on. Can I ask your name?" he said, his voice raspy, and his British accent quite thick. Hana grinned, and gave a wave.

            "Hana Song. But most people know me as D.Va," she answered. The man puzzled over her name, and then he finally seemed to remember.

            "Oh, right! I remember now! My grandson! He has your poster up in his flat. I believe he is quite a fan of yours. And who are these gentlemen you're with, might I ask?" the man enquired. Jaime stepped in.

            "I'm Remy. I'm her bodyguard," he grinned, while thumbing to Hana. The man raised his eyebrow in curiosity, and looked over to Hog.

            "I'm Wilbur. I'm his bodyguard," he also grinned, while thumbing to Jaime. Hana took the conversation back under her control, and chatted with the man for a little while, trying to gain some more information about the grandson. _You sneaky little rabbit!_ Jaime tried to suppress a lopsided smile, but simply couldn't. A course of some sort of soup was brought out, placing a halt in the conversation.

            The courses kept coming. One by one, large dishes came out with disappointingly small portions, though nearly everything taste good to him. Hog seemed rather unfulfilled, even after clearing every plate that was brought to him. He leaned over to Hana.

            "S'when's the dinner course?" he asked. Hana pointed to the empty dish in front of him that had previously been filled with a small scoop of plum sorbet.

            "Uh, that was dessert you just finished..." she answered. Hog stared at the empty dish for a moment.

            "This shit's a fuckin' joke," he grunted, and the only person who seemed to notice his uncouth comment was the old man, who chuckled quietly to himself.

            "There's a wonderful fish shop around the corner. I believe they're open twenty-four hours... Don't tell my wife. I'm not supposed to be eating those sorts of things anymore," the old man whispered in response. After the dessert dishes were cleared away, the lighting changed, and so did the music.

            "Ooo! Dancin' time! We should go say hi to Sym!" Hana said, a spark of excitement in her eyes. She started to get up out of her chair, but Jaime snatched her hand and kept her in place.

            "Not yet. Her boss is still there. Wait fer her t'ditch 'im," he ordered under his breath. Hana gave a quick nod.

            "Everything cool?" she murmured back. He gave a small shrug.

            "We'll see," he answered. Eventually, Satya stood up, and head over towards Winston's table. Sanjay only gave the slightest glance her way before turning towards a woman who had tapped him on the shoulder. She seemed to pull him into a riveting conversation, and he didn’t look back. Satya turned, locked eyes with the trio, and nodded towards the table where the whole team was still gathered around. Well, the whole team minus Jesse and his date. Hana wasted no time hopping up and heading over, and the Junkers followed behind her. She threw her arms around Satya's neck, and gave her a cheery hug.

            "Aw, girl, I missed you! And you look so flippin' pretty, too!" Hana greeted. Satya seemed to relish the hug.

            "I missed you too, Hana. You look adorable. And thank you for the pajamas. They were a very thoughtful gift," Satya replied. She greeted Hog, who gave her a small wave. The team chatted away with her, while Winston sided up to Jaime.

            "I have your word you'll behave?" The ape warned in a low voice.

            "Got this far inta' the night, mate. Whatta' you think?" he snipped back. Winston scowled, but seemed to take that as a yes.

            “Well, at least you’re disguised appropriately enough. I doubt anyone will be able to recognize you two,” Winston wagered, “You two look… professional.”

            “Thanks, mate. Nice monkey suit,” Jaime replied, giving Winston a playful nudge on his shoulder.

            “Don’t push it, Fawkes,” the ape warned. Jaime suppressed a laugh, and focused back on Satya.

            "Apologies everyone, if I tend to step away frequently tonight. I am still technically working, and so I'll have a lot of people that I still need to speak with," she forewarned the crew.

            "It's no sweat, love! We'll be seein' ya at home tomorrow, anyways, right?" Lena asked.

            "Yes, that is true. Would anyone be interested to take a tour? I have a VIP badge that can let us in to quite a few parts of the facility," she offered. Most of the team politely declined, wanting to mingle amongst the party. Winston apologized, saying he still had to speak further with his contacts. Satya seemed a tiny bit crestfallen.

            "I'll go!" Hana said, and Torb, Hog, and Jaime also agreed to join. He genuinely wanted to see what she had made first-hand, and enjoy the look of pride and confidence on her face. Satya led them out of the atrium towards an elevator. She pressed the button, and the doors opened up. The group stepped in, and as they turned around, Jaime's fist clenched. Sanjay was only a few yards away from the elevator, though his back was turned to them. He sneered at the man behind his back as the doors closed.


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night continues with sinister intrigue, dancing, and intimidation games. Also, making-out.

 

            "Shoot! Are you sure this is a research facility? This place seems more like a high-end resort, if you ask me!" Hana commented as they left the indoor gym and pool.

            "I simply took the requirements the research team put forward, and incorporated them into my design. They requested a level dedicated to physical fitness, and I tried my best to accommodate," Satya explained. Torb had asked her quite a few questions pertaining to building materials, tools, and design elements. Hog remained silent, and Jaime simply followed around looking in wonder and awe. His reactions warmed her heart the most. They weren’t a show that he forced for her benefit. He was genuinely amazed by her creation.

            "What else is there? I know we can't see everything, but this place is huge!" Hana asked, staring up at the tall ceilings before Satya ushered them back onto the elevator.

            "Well, the upper levels are the actual research labs, which I do not have access to, and on the roof of course is the helipad," she replied, and selected the button to take them back to the ground floor.

            "What's the R button for?" Hana asked, genuinely curious. Satya smiled at her observation.

            "That I am particularly proud of. That is the waste management and recycling floor. Don't let the name fool you. It is quite impressive. The hard light technology is able to break down organic material almost immediately, and is used to heat the entire building. In fact, this entire facility runs completely on clean renewable energy, and produces virtually zero waste. That's practically unheard of for a facility this size. I made sure to work that bit in myself," she explained, and a confident glow overtook her.

            "It's amazin', love," Jaime told her, and she couldn't stop the glow from spreading further.

            "Thank you. I am quite pleased with the end results. Having said that, I am quite eager to head home," she answered. The doors opened to the sound of music and chatter.

            "Oo! Dancing is in full swing!" Hana observed. Satya saw Sanjay off in the distance looking for someone, and she was fairly certain she was the particular someone. 

            "Pardon me, friends. I need to work the room for a little while, as it were. Would you excuse me?" she said, and after their acknowledgement, she slipped away to try and find a conversation to lose herself in. She could feel Jaime's eyes follow her the entire time as she disappeared into the crowd.

            Dinner had been a tense affair as she tried to maintain her typical stoic facade. What had once come so naturally to her started to feel noticeably forced. Of course, prior to joining Overwatch, she didn't have dark secrets to hide, nor people to try and keep safe.

      Sanjay had been pleasant the whole meal, or as close to pleasant as he was ever going to get. He kept giving her small compliments wherever he could; praising her work, loyalty, and diligence. For a moment, it reminded her of when she had first become an architech, and how he'd congratulate her every time she moved up in the company. Though his efforts in praise had always been self-serving (whenever he slapped on praise, it was usually followed by a request for his benefit), she was at least able to relax knowing that he no longer suspected her of changing her allegiances. No one would jump through the hoops that she had over the last month and a half unless they truly were a dedicated employee. Or, at least, that was the message he tried to convey. _At least my performance on that end was convincing enough._

            "Ms. Vaswani! Would you mind coming over here for a moment? I have the rest of the research team here. They wish to speak with you!" the familiar voice of Dr. Pennson called, and she saw the research team standing a bit behind him. _Perfect!_ She lost herself in their conversation, and it was a welcome respite. After a while, the group broke off to either dance, scour for hors d'oeuvres or find a waiter with a tray of drinks. Eventually, it was just her and Dr. Pennson.

            "How're you enjoying the evening thus far?" he asked. Satya gave him a polite smile.

            "Well enough, I suppose. Though, my opportunity may have fallen through. Some of my friends have surprised me with an unexpected visit. I do not wish them to get caught up in all of this. At least, not here," she replied. Richard turned towards Winston.

            "Yes, I noticed some of the old members. You seem much happier when you're standing by any of them. I'm glad. You shouldn't have to walk your path alone." he observed. Satya saw a waiter passing by with a tray of champagne flutes, and she grabbed one for herself. She took a sip, and reflected. She had always walked her path alone, and she took comfort in the solitude. But things had slowly changed, and she realized that she indeed never wanted to live her life like that ever again.  _I need to tell Winston... At least, to some degree._

            She gazed over at the team members all sitting around each other, laughing and enjoying themselves. Torb was standing next to Reinhardt, who kept talking rather animatedly to an elegant older woman. He kept pointing and motioning towards Torb, who looked incredibly smug. The lady seemed rather impressed with Reinhardt’s bearded friend. Mei and Zarya were dancing together; neither paying attention to the rhythm of the song. Winston, Lena, Pharah, and Angela were in a discussion of their own, and their laughter peeled over the crowd. Next to the four, Hana, Hog, and Jaime had sat down in the remaining empty seats. Hana was talking poor Hog's ear off, while Hog sat with an entire tray of hors d'oeuvres in front of him. Jaime kept trying to snitch some when he wasn't looking, but Hog curled his lip in a way that made her actually worry for the safety of his hand. Jaime seemed to sense he was being watched, and looked over at her. He wiggles his fingers in a tiny wave. Dr. Pennson took notice.

            "Well... perhaps I needn't worry so much after all," he said, and yawned.

            "Goodness. I swear, you turn sixty-five, and suddenly the prospect of staying up until midnight goes right out the window! I'm afraid it's home and to bed for me," he started, and shook her hand, "Ms. Vaswani, it's been a pleasure." Satya bowed her head slightly.

            "Likewise," she replied. Dr. Pennson turned to leave, but paused.

            "You still have my number, of course. If you should ever need anything, even just an ear, never hesitate to call," he offered. Satya gave him another nod.

            "Thank you, Richard. Have a happy New Year," she said, and the doctor took his leave. Satya quietly observed her friends some more when she felt a presence at her side. _Fuck._

            "Sanjay," she greeted without looking.

            "Vaswani," he replied. Satya took a long sip of her champagne as he followed her line of sight.

            "The research team seems to have also taken a shine to you, I see," Sanjay noted. Satya gave an ambiguous shrug.

            "I tried to accommodate their requests as best as I could. I think they found it all to be more than they expected," she explained. Sanjay remained quiet for a moment.

            "You were always talented in that regard. I had my doubts that we'd be able to finish on time, but you really stepped up to the plate, so to speak. Your performance has not gone unnoticed," he said. _Oh! Oh, you left yourself wide open on that one!_ She was suddenly thankful that she had left her earrings on. Perhaps she could gain some insight.

            "On time? I am a bit confused. Didn't Dr. Pennson say in his speech that we finished ahead of schedule?" she asked, feigning naive confusion. She took another sip of her champagne, and seeing the slightest bit of a squirm come from Sanjay made the beverage taste just a bit sweeter.

            "Yes, well, we were originally slated to complete the project at the end of June, but when that Lúcio character started up his little tour, it turned the Favela protests in Rio into global news. People were getting the wrong impression about us, and even our stocks started to take a plummet. The board thought it best that we remind the world what Vishkar stands for. Completing a project of this magnitude has all but silenced their little... uprising," Sanjay explained. _And so you worked two men to death just to dispel some negative PR from other deaths. If that is not the definition of irony, then I don't know what is._

            "It was a rather heavy burden, I suppose. But in the end, I am pleased with the board's decision. It helped us weed out weak links in our chain," Sanjay added. _Geet and Chirag were not weak, and I will not let their deaths be in vain._ She didn't want to linger too long on the subject, for fear of him growing suspicious. He was unknowingly divulging quite a bit, and while it wasn't evidence enough to implicate him or the company of any wrong-doing, it was beginning to bring the underlying picture into focus.

"I suppose you're right. Did everything go well in Utopaea?" she asked, changing the subject. Sanjay shrugged.

            "Yes and no. The board disapproved of my budget proposals, though I was able to view some of the new equipment our R and D division has been working on. I think the board is wasting their time, though," he ambiguously answered.

            "Oh? And why is that?" Sanjay took in a slow breath, mulling over the wording of his response.

            "Change is on the horizon, Vaswani. The old members of the board don't see it, but I do. I merely hope to keep Vishkar in good standing when change does come. The company needs loyal employees, now more than ever. Employees who perform as admirably as you," he cryptically answered. Satya flicked her eyes to him, not sure how best to respond.

            "I think that goes without saying," she murmured. Suddenly, Reinhardt's hearty guffaw rang out from the other side of the room, drawing their attention back to the Overwatch team gathered around. She wasn't sure what had happened, but the team was laughing in unison. Jaime's face was lit up in a cheek-splitting smile, and it brought a much-needed wave of warmth over her. The tiniest bit of a smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.

            "Have you danced yet?" he asked. The question was unexpected, and she prayed he wasn't going to ask her. Conversation was one thing, but the thought of having Sanjay's hands on her person made her stomach roil.

            "Not yet," she responded. Sanjay returned to looking over the crew. He scanned the members one by one.

            "I'm surprised you haven't been asked yet... I think I've figured it out, by the way. In case you were wondering," he said, and there was a teasing hint in his voice. Satya's skin began to crawl, but she kept her face stiff. _He is testing you for weakness. Baiting you. Do not let him under your skin. You still have the means to undo him._

            "You sound confident, for one who hasn't even spoken with any of them since you've arrived," she snipped, and Sanjay smirked.

            "I used process of elimination. I know you well enough to rule out the female half of the team. It couldn't be Winston. That's a sin against nature. The loud man, Reinhardt? Much too old for you. The shorter man seems far too preoccupied with that duchess," he said, pointing towards Torbörn, who was blowing kisses to the elegant older woman in front of him. Satya would have smirked at the sight, were it not for the intense dread building inside of her.

            "The large man in the boar mask? Well, I imagine you have higher physical standards than that. So that really only leaves us with one person," Sanjay continued.

            "Two. There is another man not present at the moment," she cut in, hoping she could throw him off. Sanjay gave a pompous chuckle.

            "Oh, if you're referring to the man in the cowboy hat, well... let's just say I found him rather indisposed in a coat closet," he started, and his eyes flicked to Jaime, "so I think I have my answer." _Were the two of us alone, I would claw out your eyes for daring to look at him!_ Satya refused to respond.

            "No need to get so defensive. If it is any consolation, I don't have a problem with it. I merely advise that you don't let him become a distraction. Women tend to be susceptible to that." _Do not rise to his bait. He is merely probing for an exploitable weakness._

            "You needn't worry. We have an agreement. He knows that when my contract with Overwatch is finished, I am to return to Vishkar, and that will be the end of it," she lied, keeping her voice cool.

            "I see. How very professional of you. Hm. You know, you’re right about one thing. I haven’t spoken with any of them all night. I suppose it’d be good for business to do my own little check-in," Sanjay quipped. It was with much difficulty that she managed to keep her face stiff, and void of any alarm.

            “And here I thought the reason I was sent over in the first place was so you wouldn’t have to waste your time with that, considering all that you have on your plate,” she quipped back, hoping to sway him.

            “Oh, no worries of that, Vaswani. I know you’re doing an admirable job. Still, it won’t hurt for me to stop over and say a quick hello,” he replied. _It very well might, depending on what you end up saying!_ Sanjay snaked through the crowd towards the Overwatch crew, and Satya fell in step behind him.

            _I cannot believe I once considered him a friend!_ Years of working together had, by proxy, turned him into the closest thing she had to actual friends prior to accepting the Recall. At the very least, she had thought of him as somebody with whom she could trust. It hurt now knowing just how awful and dangerous he’d truly become. The same, she supposed, could be said about Vishkar in general. _Or maybe he and the company were always corrupt, and I am just now truly seeing it. The blinders have been removed, and I cannot trust the man holding the crop._

            “Ah! Here we have the whole team together. How wonderful,” Sanjay greeted, interrupting all of their conversations. He introduced himself to everyone, sounding pompous, yet robotic. Hand-shaking was a rather awkward affair. Torb’s scorn was very clearly displayed. Reinhardt was amiable enough, though as soon as he shook his hand, he immediately went back to speaking with his short friend. Winston gave the only professional greeting amongst the group. Nearly every person found an excuse to get away from her superior, whether it be dancing, a bathroom-run, or the hunt for a suddenly-elusive drink tray. Sanjay turned to Jaime and Hog, and gave a small nod in greeting.

            “I don’t believe we’ve met. You two are some of the newer-additions Winston contracted on, is that right?” he asked. Jaime pulled himself up straight. He towered over Sanjay, and Satya could swear she saw him shrink back just the slightest bit. Jaime gave him a noticeably intimidating smile, and held out his glossy metal hand for a shake.

            “That’s right. Name’s Remy Templeton. Friends call me Rem. You can call me Remy,” he introduced. Her superior’s eyes darted down to the hand he had offered, and pulled a slight look of apprehension.

            “My apologies. I’m afraid I can’t compete with a grip like that,” he said, keeping his hands behind his back.

            “You’re right ‘bout that one, mate.” Jaime grinned. Hog finally stood up from the table. He didn’t say anything. He merely stood behind Jaime, and towered even further over the man. Having noticed the intimidation game slowly building, Winston stepped in, and distracted Sanjay with small talk. Satya’s eyes flicked to Jaime, and she tossed him a wink. _Sanjay will learn his place tonight, and it is far below you, my love._ Jaime and Hog stepped away with Hana to try and find a waiter with a drink tray, and Satya was rather thankful. Much as she loved to watch Jaime stare down her superior, she wouldn’t put it past him to get caught up in Sanjay’s backhanded insults, and the last thing she needed was for him to lash out physically at him. Satya turned her attention back to her two bosses.

            “Did you get the information I sent you?” Winston asked. Sanjay gave a slight nod.

            “Yes. I started to look it over, but you must understand, I am a very busy man. Perhaps tomorrow or the day after we could discuss this further?” he requested.

            “I understand. It’ll be nice having Symmetra back to aid us on that front. I was hoping to also speak with you about extending her contract,” Winston replied, and her eyes darted to Sanjay to gauge his reaction. Sanjay pulled a face she couldn’t quite read.

            “Yes, well, I suppose she’s rather made herself at home in Gibraltar. One would hate disturbing the balance there,” he answered. Sanjay paused, and reached into his pocket for his phone. He gave the screen a quick scan before looking back at Winston.

            “Apologies, Dr. Winston. It seems I need to make a call to headquarters. Would you excuse me?” he said, and before Winston could acknowledge him, he turned and walked away. Winston’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he let out a concerned growl.

            “I know he’s your superior, but I’m getting a weird vibe from him. Am I reading too much into things?” Winston finally asked her. Satya was a bit surprised by his observation. She debated on what exactly she should tell him. Gibraltar was a much safer place to divulge the information she had, and she knew it would take a long time to explain everything. _I can’t tell him everything, but I should at least make him aware of some things._

            “No. Actually, I have stumbled upon some information that pertains to both him and Vishkar. It will all be arriving at the watchpoint the day after tomorrow,” she answered. Winston’s face remained suspicious.

            “Why haven’t you said anything sooner?” he asked. Satya scanned the room to see how far off Sanjay was. He was still caught up amongst people trying to gain his attention.

            “Gibraltar is far safer to divulge this information, and I didn’t want to cause anyone to worry. It is a situation that needs to be handled rather delicately. I promise you I will explain everything when we return,” she said. Winston gave a small nod.

            “I see… are we in any danger here?” he nearly whispered. Satya gave a shrug.

            “No more so than usual, I suppose. We are not directly in harm’s way here tonight, if that’s what you mean, though just for good measure, I’m going to keep an eye on him. I trust him about as far as I can throw him,” she answered. Winston’s eyes remained narrowed.

            “Very well. But please be careful,” he said, and Satya acknowledged she would. She stepped through the thick crowd, and located Sanjay standing off near the exit to the gardens. He brought his phone out, and proceeded to make his call.

            “Korpal… Yes… Again?... Surely it can wait until tomorrow… They set the meeting when?... Deadlines, of course… No, I understand. I said I’d take care of it, and I will… Yes, sirs. Happy New Year.” He ended the call and tucked the phone back in his pocket.

            “Is everything alright?” she asked, and Sanjay gave a bit of a start.

            “Oh! Yes, everything is fine. It just appears some paperwork slipped through the cracks, and needs to be finalized before the end of the year, which gives me all of two hours to work with. I cannot wait until I am out of this London office, and back to working with people who know how to get a job done! Unfortunately, I must go. Enjoy the party for me, Vaswani!” he instructed, and stepped away before she could speak further with him. The phone call did not sit well with her, but she watched Sanjay leave the building in a hurry. As soon as the doors shut behind him, she breathed a sigh of relief. _There. He is gone. When I get home, I will explain everything to Winston, and he and I can work together to bring Sanjay down. And if the files I had copied yield information pertaining to Vishkar? Well, icing on the cake!_ A smile crept across her face. Everything was beginning to fall together, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel so shackled.

           

.           .           .           .           .

 

            "Rat! One at a time, dude!" Hana warned him as he took a gulp from each of his two champagne flutes. After Sanjay had walked away, the crew had slowly grouped back up, and went back to enjoying themselves.

            "No way, Pipsqueak. This shit is fancy. Gonna' enjoy it however th'hell I want!" he snickered. It wasn't often that he drank anything quite so tasty, and it was free, to boot! Dinner may not have been too filling, but he'd admit that rich people sure did know how to enjoy their booze.

            A waiter started passing by with another tray of hors d’oeuvres. The man in the red jacket nearly passed by their table before Hog snapped his fingers to gain his attention. The waiter grimaced. It was not his first trip to their table, and he instinctively handed the entire tray over to the hefty Junker.

            "Oh my god, Hog! You're not seriously going to eat all of the shrimp cocktail, are you?!" Hana cringed.

            "Fuckin' watch me!" he rumbled. Jaime cackled at his friend's response, and Hana let out an exasperated sigh.

            "Fine. At least hand me one before you clear the tray," she replied, and Hog acquiesced. Jaime cleared his first champagne flute, and was about to slug back his second, when he noticed Satya walking over. She had a considerably broad smile on her face, and he even noticed a bit of a spring in her step. _Oh! Oh I like that! That's a good sign!_ As she approached them, Hana nudged his leg under the tablecloth. _Oh! Right!_ He hopped out of his seat, and pulled out the chair next to him. Satya gave him that heart melting smile that was meant only for him (the smile that always managed to turn his brain into a useless pile of jelly), and sat down. He could feel his cheeks grow hot, and he had to suppress a nervous giggle.

            "You're awfully smiley," he observed.

            "Sanjay got called away, and has left the party for the night. I am free to do as I please," she said with a shrug. _Fuck yes! That stupid git is gone!_

            "Well, in that case!" he started, and draped his arm over her shoulder while planting a smacking kiss on her cheek. He didn't know why the creep got called away, and he didn't really care. The fact was, Sanjay was gone, he had Satya back, and she would be coming home.

            "Sym! I was just thinking about something. You're supposed to be flying back tomorrow, right?" Hana asked.

            "Yes, and it's an early flight, too. I pretty much have everything packed, so it'd just be a matter of getting up and leaving, but still, I know it's going to be a late night. I may just stay awake, and sleep once I board," she said.

            "Shoot! I say skip the plane! After the party, we can just swing by your hotel to pick up your stuff, and then head out to my jet," Hana offered. Satya nodded in agreement.

            "Oh, that is an excellent idea! We may have to fight the crowds of New Year’s Eve revelers, but my hotel is only a couple of miles from here," she replied. _And she's even ridin' home with us, too!_

            "We're still stoppin' at that fish shop though, right?" Hog cut in, and Hana rolled her eyes.

            "Yeah, I got you," she reassured. Satya let out a laugh of her own; rich and sweet.

            "I will not lie. I wouldn't mind that stop myself. Did you know I've been in London all this time, and still haven't managed to order fish and chips?" she informed. Jaime shook his head in disbelief.

            "Wot?! Ya' been here all this time, an' never got any? That's... that's..." He had a hard time finding the right word for the situation.

            "Sacrilege! That's what that is!" Lena piped behind them, and Satya chuckled as she looked over. Lena seemed genuinely upset for a moment, but let out a giggle. A pink blush had formed across her nose. _Uh oh! The sheilas are gonna' have a repeat a Girls Night!_ He didn't actually mind that prospect if it meant Satya would be crawling on top of him again later in the evening. Satya continued to chat with Lena for a moment, and Jaime finished the last of his champagne. He felt another nudge under the table, and he looked over at Hana. She tilted her head towards the people dancing, and he looked at the mass of people to see what she was going on about. He didn't see any familiar faces, and he just raised a confused eyebrow. Hana gave an annoyed snort before once again motioning to the dance floor, then to Satya, and then the dance floor again. _She's... tryin' t'tell me somethin'. I just know it._

            "Ask Sym t'dance, ya knob," Hog quietly interpreted. _Oh!_ He waited until Lena left to find the ladies room, and turned to her. She was busy watching the people already on the floor, and the song that the orchestra had been playing slowly came to an end. There was a brief pause, and a new piece was about to begin. _Aw Christ, just do it! Just fuckin' do it!_  He didn't feel terribly confident about the whole dancing thing. Hana had accused him of having two left feet, and he had to remind her that he, in fact, only had one foot altogether (the irony that it was his left foot was lost on him). But several days of drilling finally lead to some semblance of what to do, and he figured if it made Satya happy, he could endure making an ass of himself on the dance floor. 

            "Hey... ya wanna'... wanna get out there?" he asked, thumbing to the couples collecting.

            "Are you asking me to...?" she started, seeming genuinely surprised.

            "Dance! Yeah. Figured, what's th'point a gettin' all spiffy if no one's lookin'? 'Sides... kinda' wanna' show ya' off," he sheepishly admitted. 

            "Is that right?" she asked, and when he nodded she seemed rather pleased, "I would love to dance." He stood up, and held out his hand. She gladly took it, and followed him into the fray as the orchestra started back up. A new wave of nervousness set in. _What if I crush her little foot?! Aw fuck, what if I break her toe? What if I fall over and knock 'er down, an' embarrass her?!_ He felt one hand rest on his shoulder, and the fingers of her good hand laced with his. She seemed confident that he wouldn't disappoint her, and it was exactly what he needed. He placed his free hand on the small of her back.

            "I, um... I just learned this, s'go easy on me, right?" he said, and tried to hide the nervous waiver in his voice. Satya tilted her head up, and gave him a quick peck on his chin.

            "You will do just fine," she reassured, and he tried his damndest to remember the first step. The song was slow paced, and soft. He tried visualizing where to put his foot, and how to move her around. His movements were awkward and jerky to start.

            "Listen to the music. Let the rhythm guide you," she murmured, and he did just that. Focusing on her helped take the pressure off. The worry of stepping incorrectly melted away, and he lost himself to the music, and the woman in his arms.

            "You know, I still have a hard time believing any of this is real. I worry that soon, I will wake up, and it'll just be another day of lonely drudgery," she said.

            "Yeah. Kinda' get that feelin' too. But if this were a dream, don't think I'd be crammed inta' these bloody undershorts!" he quietly chuckled. Satya shook her head slightly.

            "You're... wait. You're wearing...?" and her eyes darted down with a slightly worried look. He nodded, and couldn't suppress his impish grin.

            "Yup! Oh, I'm wearin' it all! Got fancy undershorts, a sock! This shoe Hana calls a wingtip. Don't think I've ever worn so much all at once, ta' be honest. Think I might actually sweat ta' death!" Satya rolled her eyes.

            "I'm sure you'll survive. Still... Jaime, I am quite touched by your effort. Having you here... everyone here... it made this night, and the past month and a half actually bearable. I don't think I would have survived this were it not for the fact that I had a home to return to. And a family," she said, and there was something in her voice that seemed just a touch sad.

            "Wanted ta see ya. Couldn't wait another day. Worth lookin' like a knob if it meant I could bring ya home m'self," he said, trying to add a cheerful note to his voice. Satya shook her head.

            "You do not look like a knob! Far from it, actually. You look positively regal," she replied.

            "Regal she says! It's the mask, ain't it? Got th'lil crowny part?"

            "No, not entirely. I believe it's the man underneath that I am referring to," she answered. He gave a nervous chuckle.

            "Not gonna' lie. Kinda' feel like a fish outta' water here, love," he admitted. Satya stepped just a little closer, and rest her head against his shoulder.

            "You dance very well for a fish," she joked. He hadn't realized until that moment that, yes, they were indeed still dancing, and he wasn't messing up, or stomping her foot, or falling over. Maybe it was just his choice in partner, and he'd certainly never admit it to anyone, but he was actually starting to like the whole "dancing" thing. It didn't just make her happy. It made him happy, too. They danced in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's presence, and the sway in their steps.

            "Satya..." he finally murmured.

            "Mmm?"

            "...I love ya'," he finally managed to stammer.

            "I love you too, Jaime," she quietly replied.

            The song came to an end, but she wasn't ready to leave the floor, so they stayed to enjoy another piece. The pace was a little quicker, and a bit more fun. They spotted Torb dancing with a woman who had a good foot of height over him, and the pair seemed to be hitting it off. Jaime snickered.

            "Well, guess Reinhardt did a good job as a wingman!" he chuckled to himself. _Speakin' a Reinhardt..._ He noticed the giant was also on the dance floor, and after he squinted, he finally noticed his dance partner.

            "Isn't that just silly? Oh, but look at what fun they're having!" Satya grinned. Hana stood on Reinhardt's colossal feet (mostly to prevent getting crushed), and the unlikely pair just kept giggling over the utter ridiculousness of their difference in size.

            "A shame Hog isn't a dancer. I hope he doesn't feel left out," Satya worried. Jaime looked back over at the table, and smirked. He thumbed over to his friend.

            "Don't worry 'bout Hog, love. Think he's enjoyin' himself just fine." Hog was still seated, though he was flanked on either side by two waiters. One kept refilling his glass of champagne. The other kept handing him trays of food. He had his massive feet propped up on one of the empty chairs. It was positively hedonistic. If there was anyone who was going to enjoy living the highlife that night, it was him. Jaime’s thoughts wandered to their days in Junkertown, when simply being able to find something to eat, and sleeping indoors was considered a lucky break.

            "Ah, who'da thought two Junkers like us would'a made it this far?" he quietly mused. Satya mulled his statement over.

            "Who would have thought a poor wretch from Hyderabad would as well?" she added. He squeezed her hand a little.

            "Yeah? Yknow what th'best part a comin' this far is?" Satya waited for him to answer.

            "We don't ever have ta' look back,".

            The second song ended, and Satya started to fan herself. She told him she was warm, and needed some fresh air, so they decided to pop back out to the gardens. The dancing and food had kept most people inside, and they practically had the entire courtyard to themselves. They walked in silence under the orange glow of the heat lamps, and he glanced over. _Christ, you are just fuckin’ POURED inta’ that dress!_ A thought struck him.

            "Y'know... ain't no one out here. Maybe we can find a lil' cozy spot. Hunker down?" he teased. Satya gave him an awkward smile.

            "Oh, the thought occurred to me as well, but it's getting fairly close to midnight, and I'm sure people will be coming out to watch the fireworks soon. Besides, I know once I get you out of that tux, there's no putting it back on. Let me enjoy the sight of you dressed up for just a bit longer," she replied.

            "Yeah, you owe me big f'this one. When we get home, have half a mind t'strip ya' down an' roll ya' in some dirt just t'keep it even," he teased, and her eyes widened in horror, "A'course, I think the dirt' has better sense than t'stick to ya'." Satya snickered.

            "Yes, well, rest assured, I will make it up to you for suffering this _terrible_ indignity of dressing formal," she sarcastically remarked.

            "You can make it up ta me now. Let's find a spot an' have a lil fun," he said, adding a knowing lilt to his words. Her eyes narrowed.

            "Just a lil," he repeated. Satya's eyes darted to the side, and she nodded with a knowing grin towards a corner of the garden with very little lighting, and an empty bench backed by a tall hedge of holly shrubs. They had barely sat down when she reached over, grabbed the lapels of his jacket, and tugged him down into a kiss. Satya didn't waste time, and he was rather fine with her decision. The kiss grew deep almost instantaneously. He could feel her tongue, and it was like the first time all over again. The memory of her in the violet dress, drunkenly clambering on top of him welled up behind his closed eyes. _Oh my god, let's just fuckin' leave so I can tear that dress off ya’ with m’teeth!_ He ran his good hand along her back for a moment. She let out a breathy moan across his mouth. _Oh, oh why'd ya have t'do that?!_ He reminded himself that he was a gentleman. Gentleman dressed nicely, behaved appropriately, and didn't hike up their partner's skirt in public. With much effort, he suppressed the urge to dive below, and give her a real reason to moan. _Later, mate. Later._  

            They paused for just a moment to catch their breaths, when they heard the sounds of another couple enjoying themselves in much the same fashion on the other side of the holly hedges. Satya looked at him, and then towards the direction of the heavy breathing, and smacking kisses.

            "C'mon darlin', yer killin' me here..." came a ragged, and familiar voice. Satya raised an eyebrow, but curiosity ultimately got the better of the pair. They wanted to see Jesse's mystery date. They quietly tip-toed to the other side of the hedges. The cowboy had somebody underneath him on the grass, and he was going to town. His jacket had been discarded. His bolo tie hung from a sprig of holly. It appeared that even his shirt had been partially unbuttoned, and Jaime wondered just how more compromising the situation would have grown if they’d arrived a few minutes later.

            "Jesse!" Satya nearly shrieked! The cowboy looked up in shock.

            "Sym?!" he nearly shrieked back.

            "Jesse!" Jaime hooted in delight. _Way t'go, mate!_

            "Rat?!" the cowboy stammered.

            "…Jesse," came the annoyed voice of Jesse's date from underneath him, who'd been obscured by the cowboy's broad shoulders. Jaime's eyes nearly popped out of his skull as a familiar face came into view.

            "HANZO?!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, y'all, but I told you it'd be worth it! The lovely illustration is courtesy of my friend, Tomo. You can look her up on tumblr under starfish-are-stickers. Tomo is sketching up a beautiful GoT fic, so please look her up. She is amazing, and I love her!


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sym and Rat ring in the New Year, but shades of the old rear their ugly heads.

            "Alright, now. How about we all just take a breath and put down the torches and pitchforks, okay, Rat?" Jesse said, holding his hands up. Jaime was in no mood. He pointed a metal finger at Hanzo.

            "Are ya fuckin' kiddin' me?! He fuckin' shot me, mate! Three times!" Jaime snarled. Hanzo crossed his arms.

            "Yes, for stealing personal belongings FROM MY HOME!" Hanzo snapped back. Satya stood off to the side, not entirely sure what to do.

            "It was a diversion! Wasn't actually stealin' ya cunt! Sorry, love," he replied, adding an apology to Satya for the rough language. She never admonished him for his profanity before, but something about that word struck him as something she might not want to hear.

            "And yet, you still kept an item from me!" Hanzo said, referring to the hair comb.

            "Think that's awful fair, considerin' ya shot me in the ass!"

            "What ass?" Hanzo muttered under his breath. Jaime scowled at him.

            "That's it. Satya, look away. Gonna repay him th'favor!" he growled, and started after Hanzo. Both Jesse and Satya stepped in, holding the men back from tearing at each other.

            "Easy, darlin'. Rat's got a point. Well, had. Three of them, actually. And Rat, ease up, okay? It's not like he was shootin' to kill. He was just defending his home from what he thought were thieves," Jesse reminded.

            "Oh, are you fuckin' serious right now, mate?!" Jaime bristled.

            "GENTLEMEN! Need I remind you that it is a half hour until midnight, and people WILL start heading out to watch fireworks?" Satya cut in. Jaime still fumed and grumbled.

            "Aw hell. Yeah, we better split before Angela spots us," Jesse said, dusting off his coat. Hanzo started doing up the buttons on his shirt.

            "What's Doc gotta' do with you two goin' at it like rabbits?" Jaime asked, and Hanzo grimaced at the simile.

            "Angela's a swell gal, but she ain't exactly a fan of Shimada here, and that's all you need to know. All I'm asking is that you don't tell anyone we were here, is that alright?" Jesse pleaded. Jaime bristled some more. Angela was one of the nicest people he'd ever met, and was infinitely patient and loving. If Hanzo did something to piss her off, it must have been very well-deserved. He had half a mind to march right in and find the doctor, but Satya seemed to know where his line of thought was going. She placed her hand on his forearm, and gave a gentle, yet firm, squeeze.

            "We will not breathe a word. There was a time where we also kept our relationship a secret, right Jaime? Now it is our turn to do the same for others," she reasoned. Jaime ground his teeth.

            "Alright. Mum's th'word," he begrudgingly conceded. Hanzo grabbed his tie off of the grass, and quickly knotted it around his neck.

            "You have my thanks. I should get going. Like you said, people will be coming out soon enough. I would not want to be caught in a compromising situation," Hanzo said, eyeing Jesse, who was still slightly disheveled from their little romp. Hanzo started towards the outer garden exit, and Jesse thumbed after him.

            "I should probably see him off. Don't you two do nothing I wouldn't do!" he said with a wink, and turned to catch up with Hanzo. Jaime shook his head in disbelief.

            "Unbelievable! Asshole shot me in the back, an' McCree goes slobberin' all over 'im!" Jaime's frustrations melted away the moment he heard Satya's small chuckle. 

            "What's so funny?" he asked. Satya straightened her dress, and readjusted her sash before stepping over.

            "Nothing. I just never pictured Jesse to have a taste for the finer things. That's all," she responded.

            "Finer things, eh? Don't you go fallen f'that creep, now! He'll probably just stick ya' in th'back!" he jokingly warned. She came over, and started adjusting his tie and jacket.

            "Now why would I go do a silly thing like that, when I already have a perfectly fine thing of my own? There. Everything is back in order," she said. They could hear footsteps off in the distance.

            "Oh, and here comes the crowd to watch the countdown," she remarked. Slowly, the mob of guests brought the party from the atrium into the garden. The wait staff went around with more trays of champagne, and a few even handed out noise-makers. Jaime grabbed a clacking rattle, and Satya grabbed a paper ribbon whistle.

            "Now remember, these are for the stroke of midnight, and not before. We don't want to ring in the New Year too early..." she instructed, but he launched into making as much jarring noise as possible with the damn thing. Satya snatched the noise maker from him.

            "How about I just hold onto this until we get to the actual counting part?" she said, and he gave a bit of a snicker.

            "Sorry love. Couldn't resist,". Hana came running up, and nearly smacked right into him.

            "There you guys are! Thought you'd still be dancing, but then I saw you out here. Bet you two were neckin’, right?" she snickered, and Satya looked away in slight embarrassment while Jaime gave a little bit of a nod. Hog came trudging up behind her, out of breath.

            "Slow down. Crowd's too thick t'go chasin' your drunk lil ass!" he huffed. Hana flagged down a waiter, and handed them all champagne flutes, but she turned to Jaime, who was about to drain his in one go.

            "Nononono! You wait until midnight! Then you toast!" she instructed. Annoyed, he stared at his drink. He didn't like all the having to wait business. Hana tugged at his jacket, and ushered him to come in close. He bent down, lending her an ear.

            "You're gonna’ smooch her at twelve, right?" she whispered. He raised an eyebrow.

            "Wot?" he asked, confused. _I'll smooch her whenever I damn well please!"_

"Yeah! As soon as the countdown hits zero, you're supposed to smooch your guy or gal!" she informed. He'd never heard of that particular custom before, but then, he'd never exactly had a girlfriend before, either. Or even really celebrate the New Year, for that matter. He was on board for the idea, and gave her a thumbs up. The rest of the team slowly caught up with them, and from where they were standing, if they craned their necks, they could just make out Big Ben.

            "Ugh! I can't see anything!" Hana groaned. Hog reached over, grabbed her with one massive hand, and perched her on his shoulder like a parrot.

            "Perfect! Thanks Hog!" she said. Mei sniffed that she couldn't see either, and Zarya took the not so subtle hint. She hoisted her up onto her broad shoulders as well. Reinhardt gave a booming laugh, and looked down at Torb, who was standing on his toes.

            "Vould you like a seat on my shoulder, friend?" the giant offered. Torb folded his arms and scowled.

            "...yes please..." he reluctantly requested. Reinhardt didn't shame him for it. He merely hoisted his friend up, and perched him much in the same manner as Hana.

            "Oh! We're down to the last minute!" Angela exclaimed. Jesse just managed to find them all within the last thirty seconds. The crowd started to count down from ten. Jaime looked around.

            "Nine!" they shouted. _Can't believe this is real._

"Eight!" _Got m'best mate!_

"Seven!" _Got m'new friends!_

"Six!" _Got a real job!_

"Five!" _Got a home!_

"Four!" _Got m'girl!_

"Three!" _Everything's perfect!_

"Two!" _Fuck you, Junkertown!_

"One!" _I gotta' new life!_

            At zero, the crowd cheered, and the world around him erupted in a cacophony of noisemakers and fireworks. The orchestra could be heard from inside, and they started playing Auld Lang Syne. He felt a tug on his tie, and he looked down at Satya, who, despite the chaos and racket around her, was positively beaming. _Oh! Right!_ He leaned down, and kissed her, ignoring the loud pops and bursts of the fireworks above him. Who needed pyrotechnics? He had his own light show bursting in his head, and his heart was slamming in his chest from giddy excitement and joy. Eventually, she pulled away. She brought the little whistle to her mouth, and gave it a quick blow. The paper ribbon unfurled, bopping him on the tip of the nose with a pitiful “fweep”, and he burst into a fit of cackling laughter. He decided right then and there that New Year's was his favorite holiday.

            They lingered outside for the better part of an hour, slowly making their way to a space that wasn’t so crowded. Though she was handling it all rather well, Jaime noticed that Satya was edging away from the group. While he was enjoying himself immensely, he realized it was time to go.

            "So when we goin' t'that fish shop?" Hog asked, and Jaime was relieved at the opportunity that he offered, while Satya thought about it.

            "You know what? It is technically the new day, so my work here is done. How about we leave now?" she suggested. Jaime liked that idea immensely. It meant he was one step closer to getting out of his ridiculous clothes, and back into the comfort of his shorts. They quickly said their goodbyes to the rest of the team, who decided they'd be leaving soon after, cut through the atrium, and out the gleaming metal doors. 

            "That old guy said the place was just around the corner. Should we just hoof it?" Hana suggested.

            "Oh, I think I know the place you're referring to. Finnley's! It really isn't all that far. It would seem silly to drive," Satya replied, and they started down the sidewalk. Under the orange glow of the heat lamps, Jaime had nearly forgotten it was, in fact, a winter night. The air was cold and damp, and his breath puffed out in misty clouds. He could feel Satya give a slight shudder underneath his draped arm.

            "Y'cold?" he asked.

            "A little. I didn't anticipate taking a walk, so I left my coat back in my hotel room," she admitted. He pulled her a little closer to share his warmth. 

            "Oh, well that's better. I often forget you are a walking radiator!" she mused. Suddenly, he felt a pair of tiny arms wrapped around his waist, and somebody push up against his back.

            "Ooo, Sym! You're right! He IS a walking radiator!" Hana chirped from behind him.

            "An' yer like a drunk lil lizard on a rock!" he sassed back, but didn't shove her off.

            "Ain't that drunk. Just a bit tipsy! Oh! I see it! I see it!" Hana said, craning around his side while pointing at the shop ahead. There were only a few people inside, much to their surprise, and they stepped right up to the counter. The door had barely shut behind them when the sky opened up, and rain began to fall. The revelers on the sidewalks shrieked, and dashed to find the nearest spot for cover, and those who'd planned ahead opened up their umbrellas.

            "Now that's lucky timin'! You lot come from that fancy party 'round the corner?" the man behind the line asked, motioning to the Tranquility Center. Satya nodded, and the clerk chuckled.

            "Yeah? Him, too!" the clerk grinned, while motioning to the old man who had sat at their table earlier in the evening. The man looked up from his haddock, with sudden panic on his face from being recognized.

            "I snuck out of the party. Don't tell my wife I was here!" he nervously pleaded. Jaime rolled his eyes.

            "Yer secret's safe, mate!" he told him. Appeased, the man went back to his basket.  _Don't even remember what yer wife looks like!_ The group placed their order, and Satya reached into her purse to grab out some cash. As she fished around, Jaime looked over, scanning the walls of the shop. A cork board for posters and flyers hung to one side, and a haunting face looked back at him.

            Buried behind flyers for upcoming concerts, and ads for freelance repair work was their wanted poster. His police sketch stared at him with dark eyes. He hardly recognized himself. _Ah, fuckin' hell. Why now?! Why fuckin' now?!_ He nervously looked back at the man behind the counter, and the other patrons inside. No one seemed to even notice. He supposed the masks helped, but even so, the two were always rather memorable simply by stature alone. He looked back at the poster some more, and took a hard swallow. Satya finished paying, and turned towards him with a calm smile. The moment she saw his face, she raised an eyebrow, and looked in the same direction he had been staring. She took in a sharp inhale before turning back to him.

            "Sweetheart... why don't you three go find us a seat?" she said, keeping her tone incredibly calm and even, as though nothing in the world were wrong.

            "Yeah... yeah, alright," he mumbled. Hana and Hog had been too busy making their selection from the soda fountain to notice. He found a table towards the back, and sat down. He kept his eyes on Satya the entire time. She nonchalantly walked up to the community board, and seemed to be regarding the posters with mild curiosity. He watched as she plucked a poster from the board, and brought it close to read it better. When she went to pin it back, she very carefully tore the wanted poster from its pins, folded it, and popped it in her purse to dispose of later. His eyes flicked back to the other patrons, and the two employees working at the shop. None of them even bothered to look up from their food or work. She turned back with a smile, and took her seat next to him, as if nothing had ever happened. She reached under the table, and clasped his hand.

            "It is a new year. Best we put the old one behind us," she murmured.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            The fish and chips were heavenly, but nothing seemed to get the sad look out of Jaime's eyes. It wasn't something she had anticipated on contending with. Of course, the same could be said about the entire night on a whole. In the back of her mind, she still worried about Sanjay's quick departure. Much as she delighted in seeing him leave, it didn't sit well. _No. My struggle with him and Vishkar are over. When the data drive arrives in Gibraltar, I will have Winston decrypt it, and from there, I will have a better understanding of what my next step will be. Until then, Jaime is my top priority._

            She ran her hand along his forearm under the table; a soothing stroke to reassure him that everything would be alright. He kept a smile on his face while talking to Hana and Hog, but it was somehow thin and weak. If the other two noticed, they said nothing. In her excitement of his unexpected arrival, she had completely forgotten about his past forays in London. In retrospect, it would have been better if he hadn't come. Sanjay would never have figured out who her partner was, nor gotten under her skin. Jaime would never have seen the poster, nor put himself in danger of being recognized.

            The face on the yellowed paper didn't even look like him, though she supposed it was easy to come to that judgement when the man in question was well-dressed, well-groomed, and sporting a mask. The list of charges underneath was altogether alarming, though she had seen them before. She would never fool herself into believing he was innocent. He had stolen. He had destroyed, and by his hands, people had died. That had always upset her whenever she came back to it, until the day came where she finally sat down and looked through his file, and the nature of what had happened in every incident he and Hog had been involved in. In nearly every single incident, the deaths had been accidental; bystanders who'd inadvertently gotten in the way of his blasts. And she had no doubt in her mind that he felt guilty for those people, if the things he had cried in his sleep were any indicator. _"I'm so sorry! I ain't a monster! I'm so sorry!"_ Those words always echoed in her mind. _You have done monstrous things, but you are no monster. Monsters do not feel remorse. Monsters don't try to undo what they've done. Monsters don't join Overwatch._

            Having finished their baskets, they decided to head back to the Tranquility Center to wait for Hana's limousine. The rain still fell, though it had tapered off to a light sprinkle; just enough to make them feel wet and cold. It seemed the precipitation had brought an end to the party, as only a few people still lingered; most of which was wait staff. Hana sent a message to the driver, and the four waited on the pearly steps for the car to pull up. Satya gave a slight shiver, and so did her friend standing next to her. The temporary warmth from the alcohol had run its course, and, combined with the rain, had left Hana practically trembling. Something black and heavy draped around the two, and when she looked around, she realized it was Hog's massive jacket. Satya and Hana bunched up under the fabric, and the added warmth helped.

            "Thank you," she said, giving the Junker a small smile. He gave her a quick nod in return, but said nothing else as the vehicle pulled up. Hana told the driver what hotel to take them to, and Satya let out a long breath. She'd be grabbing her things and leaving. Her night was coming to a close, and she was very ready to head home. As the limo came to a halt in front of her hotel, she looked over at Jaime, who still seemed nervous.

            “There isn’t much to bring down. Why don’t you and Hog stay here in the car. We’ll be down in just a moment,” she suggested. Staying hidden in the car seemed to comfort him, and he nodded his approval.

            “You sure ya don’t need a hand?” he asked out of politeness.

            “We got it, Rat Boy. You two just stay nice and cozy! Besides, you’ve been hoggin’ Sym all night!” Hana chuckled, seeming to not pick up on what was happening in the slightest.

            The hotel lobby was also surprisingly empty and quiet. Only the concierge and the bellhop stood by. The usual lingering visitors were either out at pubs celebrating the New Year, or had retired to the comfort of their rooms. Satya and Hana took the elevator up, and Hana turned to her.

            “Everything okay? Rat Boy seemed a little down at the Fish Shop,” she observed. Satya let out a sigh.

            “He saw his wanted poster. I don’t think he expected such a jarring reminder of his past,” she admitted. Hana gave a shrug.

            “That poster’s bullshit. Says he and Hog are ruthless killers, but they’ve been with us for months. Don’t seem like ruthless killers to me. Unless it’s Talon or something like that. Then they can really wreck shit up. But that’s no different from you or me, when you think about it,” Hana replied. _They are by no means innocent, but I see where you are going with this._ Before she could reply, the elevator doors opened.

            “What’s your room number?” Hana asked, changing the subject.

            “Ten forty-two,” she answered. Hana’s phone began to buzz, and she looked in her purse.

“Shoot! Got a call. Leave the door open for me. I’ll be there in a second!” she said, and Satya left her friend to her conversation. Having reached her door, she swiped the keycard through the lock. She stepped through, and flipped the deadbolt to keep the door cracked for Hana. As she passed through the small alcove into her bedroom, she realized that she was not alone.

            “Evening, Vaswani!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A personal note to anyone who doesn't follow me on tumblr: a few days ago, I had a couple seizures back to back, and spent several days in the hospital. I still have several chapters queued up, but if you start noticing a change in my style, quality, and/or frequency, that would be why. My new medication tends to cause bouts of confusion, but I hope my writing will not be affected. In the meantime, it would heal my heart if y'all would send me fan art/cute stuff to my tumblr (badjujujibberish)


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanjay drags Satya to the roof of the Vishkar building, and she's in for the fight of her life.

            "Oh good! All alone, I see. Some things never change!" Sanjay raised his photon projector, and fired right at her. There was no time to think. She quickly threw herself over to the ground to avoid the shot. The beam that was loosed was considerably quieter than her own projector’s, and the missed shot hit the wall behind her without leaving a mark. Satya quickly placed a shield over herself while Sanjay recharged.

            She scrambled to her feet as Sanjay fired another beam. Though he didn’t have time to properly charge it, the small blast caught her square in the gut, shattered her shield, and knocked her back down. Sanjay charged another shot, and Satya did the only thing she could think of. She quickly brought up a broad shield of light, hoping it'd be stronger than the last one; strong enough to withstand the blast.

            It was not. The beam from the projector sliced through it like a hot knife through butter, and her body was consumed with fiery pins and needles. Her muscles seized, and she collapsed. She'd never been on the receiving-end of hardlight weaponry before. She never thought it would hurt so much, but perhaps it wasn't hardlight at all. Sanjay's projector was sleek and compact. It seemed far different from her own device back in Gibraltar. Unable to move, and unable to scream, her eyes darted about the room for something. Anything. It was then that she noticed the teleporter behind him, and her stomach dropped.

            "You're coming with me. I have a few questions for you," he calmly stated while holstering his projector. He grabbed her by the shoulders, and started to drag her towards the teleporter. _Oh gods! Where are you taking me?_ She tried to force a sound of any sort, but nothing would come out. The chain from her purse dug into her shoulder as it snagged across the soft plush of the carpet. The warmth of the hotel room soon gave way to rain-slicked concrete and chilling winds. She was somewhere outside, and high up. A rooftop of some sort. It wasn't the Tranquility Center, but it was most certainly a helipad. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, and she realized she was on the top of the Vishkar office building. _You would take me here, wouldn't you? You know how to bypass security, and here you will not be disturbed._  

            He propped her up against a locked supply shed, and she watched as he brought up his own gauntlet to begin forming cuffs. Sanjay was not as adept at constructing on the fly, and it took him some time for them to take shape. Her eyes darted back to the teleporter, which he'd left open. For a moment, she thought she saw the tiniest flash of movement through the shimmering light, but whatever it was seemed to vanish.

            He formed the cuffs directly around her wrists, and she saw there was no key, nor hinge that she could exploit. The only way to get them off would be to disassemble them with a photon projector; not that it would help her at all. She still couldn't move her arms, though she could wiggle her toes, and she could feel her tongue and throat loosen. Sanjay brought the projector up.

            "Scream, and I'll blast you directly in the head. I want answers, but if you prove to be insubordinate, I have no qualms porting you over to the Tranquility Center and tossing you in the incinerator," he warned, while stepping over and deactivating the teleporter base. Satya was finally able to nod her acceptance, and she tried to give speech a go. _You're still being recorded, so maybe I can get my confession after all. Then, even if I die, there will still be the evidence needed to take you and Vishkar down. My death will not have been in vain._

            "As y-you wish. I have q-questions too, if you'll oblige a d-dying woman's curiosity," she said, her voice raspy and unsteady. Sanjay let out a chuckle.

            "Oh, I know you're probably recording me right now, but I suppose. I'll destroy your device later, of course," he accepted. Satya gave a hard swallow, and nodded again in acceptance.

            "Was it just you in the hotel?" he asked.

            "Yes. Everyone else left via the dropship some time ago. They still have to work tomorrow," she lied. At the very least, Hana would come to the room and see the teleporter. Perhaps she'd be able to alert the team!

            "I thought my little warning before I left would have gotten through to you, Vaswani. Remind you of your place. I came back, and was quite pleased to find you'd stayed in check. Or so I thought. Found something rather interesting when I got back to my office. Did you know my computer is set up to take pictures any time it's roused from sleep mode? I thought the extra security measure I installed was a bit much. I mean, who'd be able to get into my office in the first place, apart from the janitors? But then I saw a nice little snapshot of you. What were you doing in there?" he asked.

            "Looking for answers. I found out the completion date had been moved, and both Geet and Chirag had died. I wanted to know why," she answered, and decided to chance asking a question, "What's the real reason you were called back to Utopaea?" she asked. Sanjay smirked.

            "Exactly why I told you. Budget proposals. I wanted to cut out unnecessary expenses. Exorbitant salaries. Charity work... Overwatch. Your friends have created quite a dent in our profit margins, and frankly, I'm rather unimpressed with the results. The board still thinks they'd be useful, though, so they shot my proposal down," he replied. Satya tensed her leg muscles, and the sensation of the movement steeled her. It wouldn't be long before she could move again, and from there hopefully fight.

            "So, you were in my office. You clearly found nothing on my computer... but I have a hard time believing that's all you searched. I found scratches upon a certain lock. Care to explain that?" _Sure. Why not? In a moment, I'll be on my feet, and you'll be very sorry._

            "Yes. I picked it. I found your tablet. Why are you so eager to get on the board? Mere ambition?" Sanjay crouched down, and looked her in the eyes.

            "Vaswani, I told you. Change is coming. Talon is growing more powerful with each passing day. I believe they're planning something big. I thought funding Overwatch would keep Vishkar safe, but the more I see, the more I realize there's no way they're going to be able to stop them. I merely hope to keep the company in good standing when the inevitable comes. I'm tired of hearing no, when all I have are noble intentions. So... you found my tablet, and all this information, as well as proof to implicate me, and yet you've done nothing with it. Why?" Satya ground her teeth.

            "I still needed answers about Geet and Chirag. I knew that as soon as I turned you in, I'd lose my opportunity. The company would never divulge that information to me, and I seek justice... Your weapon... how was it able to cut through my shield?" she ventured.

            "Oh, this?" Sanjay asked, holding up the projector, "A lovely little prototype from R and D. Should our hardlight weaponry fall in the wrong hands, well, wouldn't it be better to have an antidote, so to speak? And with worries of another Omnic crisis, we've even managed to develop a new setting. Localized EMP. Here! Let me show you." he offered with a sinister tone, and made a slight adjustment to the weapon. _Now!_  She didn't hesitate. She sprang to her feet, and barreled into his stomach with her shoulders, knocking him back. He fell hard onto the concrete, and her wobbly legs gave out from the sudden exertion. She fell on top of him, and though her hands were still cuffed, she started to beat him as hard as she could. He shoved her off, and quickly fired. The snapping bolt that came forth caught her gauntlet. The prosthesis fizzled and popped before the lights went dead, and the crystal lens in the palm shot out from the pressure. There was no neural response. Her gauntlet was rendered completely useless. 

            Another quick blast came, and she was once again covered in pins and needles. Her legs gave out from under her, and she crumpled onto the concrete. Sanjay wiped the blood off from under his nose. He stepped up, and gave her stomach a hard kick, knocking the wind out of her. She coughed through clenched teeth, and tried to suck in air as best she could. Though she had no control over her body, she could still feel pain. Sanjay squat down on his haunches.

            "That was a very stupid thing to do. Now I have half a mind to just toss you in the incinerator while you're still breathing!" he hissed. An alarm from her phone went off in her purse. Sanjay looked down, and pawed through the bag. He brought the phone up, and smiled a wicked grin.

            "Ah! Seems now would have been the time that you'd get up to ready yourself for your flight back. Well, guess you'll be missing that!" He brought up the blaster, and fired a small shot at the phone. The screen went blank as it died. He shoved it back into her purse, but a puzzled look came over his face. He pulled his hand back, holding up a folded piece of paper. _No! Gods, why do you punish me so?!_ He flicked it open with his thumb, and his eyes widened a bit in surprise.

            "Hmm. I thought they looked familiar. Had I known Winston was hiring on terrorists, I wouldn't have had such trouble convincing the board to cut funding. 'Mercenaries', he called them. The nerve of that ape! You sure know how to pick them, Vaswani! Who knows? Maybe I'll find a way to blame your death on them! Should be easy enough," he snipped, and shoved the poster back into her purse. As he leaned forward to close her clutch, she used what little motion she could to lean forward, and head-butt him. His nose gave a loud pop, and Satya thought her head would split in two, but it was worth it. 

            "You don't know when to quit, do you?! My time tonight is limited, Vaswani, and now so is yours.” Sanjay flatly stated. Satya grit her teeth, but at least felt reassured that she'd stalled him enough to allow Hana a chance to alert the team. Satya struggled, and lunged for the teleporter. She activated it as quickly as possible. He didn’t like that, and grabbed her by the shoulders to toss her back. He went to go deactivate it again, but a tiny fist shot out, punching Sanjay in the groin. He fell to his knees, clutching between his legs.

            "FUCKING ASSHOLE!" Hana screamed as she came through the teleporter, and tried to knee him in the face. Sanjay's arm darted out, hooked underneath her knee, and pulled her leg out from underneath her. Hana hit the concrete hard, and Sanjay fired a pulse at her. It wasn't as strong as the other shots, but she still writhed with a shriek, and at the sight of her friend's pain, Satya struggled to get back up. _I need to get that projector away from him!_ She made an awkward grab for his arm, but he wrenched it from her weak grasp. Sanjay whipped around, and grabbed Satya by the throat, shoving her back towards the supply shed.

            "You lying bitch! I'm throwing you both in the fucking incinerator! I'll erase your fucking existence!" he seethed, his grip tightening around her throat, and cutting off her air supply. She choked and gasped, trying to gulp air. Her vision started to blur, and little stars began to form around her peripherals. She could hear her pulse thundering in her ears. Only, it wasn't just her pulse. Something was pounding up the steps towards the helipad. Distracted, Sanjay's grip loosened just enough, and she sucked in air as quickly as she could. He whirled around, and began charging his blast.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            "C'mon, Sym. Just wanna' get home!" Jaime hissed under his breath as he and Hog sat in the back of the limousine. He bounced his knee, and Hog reached over to the entertainment console to flick on the television to channel surf.

            "Why don't ya just go up there an' give 'em a hand?" he huffed, and lingered a moment to catch the highlights of the Springboks Vs. All Blacks game. The All Blacks won, which didn't really surprise either of them. Jaime grumbled, not wanting to bring up the wanted poster. While no one seemed to pay them too much attention the whole evening, he didn't want to press his luck. He focused on the highlight videos.

            "Can't believe that wanker missed that kick!" he commented. Hog chuckled in agreement. Suddenly, the console lit up with a notification of an incoming call. Jaime raised an eyebrow.

            "That's Pipsqueak's number. What's she doin' callin'?" he wondered aloud. Hog shrugged.

            "Maybe the bags are too heavy for 'em?" he suggested. Jaime clicked the answer icon, and Hana's voice croaked over the speaker.

            "Oh god! Rat! He took her! He took her!" Hana hysterically sobbed. Jaime sat bolt upright, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

            "What?! What happened?! Who?!" he snapped. His pulse throbbed in his ear, and his stomach dropped. It was like hearing her transmission all over again.

            "Sym! We got to her floor, but I had a call! When I came in, she was gone! I stuck my head through. It was her boss! He dragged her through a teleporter!" she stammered. His heart was racing. His blood was boiling.

            "Why'd he take her?! And where?!" he added.

            "They're somewhere high up on a roof. I thought I saw the Vishkar logo. I think it's their office! I'm not sure, because he started turning around, so I pulled back. He closed the teleporter, and locked me out. I can't open it back up. Rat, he said something about questions. She's... I think she got into something big!" she answered. Jaime ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and worry. _Satya... Satya, what'd ya' do?!_ His hand trembled as he tried to think of a plan.

            "You're sure it was th'Vishkar buildin'?" he asked. Hana seemed a bit hesitant.

            "I don't know. I think so? It'd make sense though, right? That place is probably empty, and he'd know how to get by security and stuff, right?" she said.

            "Plus, it ain't far from here. Noticed it on th'way over. Those teleporters don't have a long range. Makes sense," Hog added. Jaime ripped his mask off his face, and angrily tossed it behind him.

            "Alright. Here's what we're gonna' do. Pipsqueak? You're gonna' stay in th'room. Call Winston... Fuck, they're probably half way t'Gibraltar by now! Doesn't matter! Call 'em. Tell 'em what happened! An' then you're gonna' keep an eye on that teleporter. If he opens it up, get outta' there! Hog an' I are gonna' go get 'er!" he instructed.

            "That asshole took Sym! If he opens up, I'm punchin' him in the dick!" Hana countered. Jaime didn't have time to tell her no. He ended the call, and scooted over to the divider window. He rolled it down. The driver had music cranked, and was utterly oblivious to the phone conversation.

            "Oi! Y'know where the Vishkar buildin' is?" he asked the driver. The man scratched his beard.

            "Yes sir," he answered, seeming annoyed at being interrupted from the book in his hand.

            "Need ya' t'take us there, an' step on it!" Jaime ordered. The chauffeur shook his head no.

            "Sorry, sir. This car is paid for by Miss Song. Can't go unless..." he started, but Jaime cut him off by handing him a fistful of cash. The chauffeur stared at the generous wad, shoved it in the pocket of his jacket, and started the engine up.

            "Right then. Vishkar building it is," he said, and sped off. Jaime closed the divider, and sat next to Hog. Worry, panic, and frustration nestled deep in the pit of his stomach, but all of that was quickly overshadowed by rage. _What th'fuck happened? What did Satya find? Why didn't she tell anyone? Why didn't she tell ME?! Christ, what if she's already dead?! No, please don't be dead. Please don't be dead. I can't..._ And the image of finding her dead body flashed before his eyes. Her last seconds of life gripped in terror. Her eyes wide with fear. The thought of the light leaving her pupils…

"Hog?"

            "Yeah, Rat?"

            "If she's dead, I'm gonna' kill 'im."

            "An' if she's alive?"

            "...I'm still gonna' fuckin' kill 'im." Hog merely cracked his neck, and rolled his shoulders. The drive may have been only a few minutes, but it felt like a goddamn lifetime, and every second that ticked by might have been her last. He stared down at his hands resting on his knees. No bombs. No grenades. No RIPtire. Nothing. All he had were his fists. _That's just gonna' have ta’ do, I guess. Worked in Junkertown well enough._

The driver took the car down a back alley that ran behind the building. The stark white construct almost glowed in contrast with the dingy cement surrounding it. Jaime stepped out, and waved the driver off. He and Hog looked around the back of the building, hoping to find a discrete point of entry. Hog pointed up to a security camera.

            "Deactivated," Hog noted. Jaime swallowed hard. Whatever the creep had planned, he obviously didn't want any form of witness. They found an emergency exit door, but there was no way to open it from the outside. Hog pointed to what appeared to be a rolling garage door, most likely meant for loading in supplies. It too was locked, but that didn't stop Hog. He grabbed from the bottom, and yanked with all his might. The feeble lock gave way, and he was able to wrench it up. No alarm sounded. They jogged through the unloading station, and stumbled into the back kitchens of a cafeteria. Much like the Tranquility Center, the building was equally massive. Its emptiness was unnerving, and their steps echoed across the halls. Hog checked around each corner, but it had always yielded the same results. The cameras had all been deactivated. The security bots lay dormant.

            "Probably patched 'em with a loopin' feed, like we did in Hanamura," Hog quietly rumbled. They found an elevator, and studied the panel.

            "No access to the helipad. Bet we gotta' take it t'the top floor, an' take stairs. Just like in Sydney" Jaime commented, and tried to collect himself for what was to come. The elevator ride dragged agonizingly slow. Hog shifted his weight, and flexed his hands.

            "Rat, when we get ta' th'stairs, let me go in first. Don't know what's waitin' at th'top," Hog ordered. Jaime agreed, though his stomach did flip-flops, and he swore his heart would just implode in his chest if he had to wait much longer to get to her. The doors opened to a long corridor of glassed in offices. The motion-activated lighting clicked on, illuminating a path towards a heavy door. Hog opened it and looked.

            "Stairs goin' up. This is it," was all he said, and he started thundering up the flight of stairs. Jaime followed behind him, and watched as Hog cleared the stairwell, and smashed through the door. It gave way with hardly any resistance. _Sit tight, love! I'm comin' for ya'!_ He couldn't quite see as he hit the top stair, and passed through the door. It was dark, and the only light came from the illuminated Vishkar logo above. He saw a flash, and heard Hog give a roar of pain. The titan fell to his knees with something clutched in his arms. He gave a shuddering breath before collapsing to his side. From within his arms, Satya began to extract herself from his grasp.

            He didn't have time to think or react. He saw Sanjay charging another shot from what appeared to be a photon projector, and Jaime lunged forward, tackling him to the ground. The man managed to hit the trigger, and a weak bolt caught Jaime in the shoulder, knocking him away. He convulsed as the feeling of thousands of needles coursed through his arm, and into the left half of his body. He hissed through clenched teeth, and tried to stand back up. In his peripheral, he could see Hog's chest heave. He was still alive, though whether he was conscious was difficult to tell. Sanjay charged another shot, but behind him, two shadows loomed in the darkness.

            Hana leaped onto Sanjay's back, and used her sharp little nails to claw at his face. The man howled in pain, and reached up, grabbing her by the wrist, and yanked her off. Satya used the distraction to wrench the projector from his hand, though Sanjay swung out, cracking her across the face with the butt of the projector. She didn't let go, and yanked again on the weapon. It tore from his hand, and she tossed it as far across the roof as she could. Furious, Sanjay rounded on her, grabbed her by her bound hand wrists, and swung her off-kilter. She lost her footing, and tumbled to the ground. He grabbed her wrists again, and started dragging her to the edge of the roof.

            "We're thirty-four stories up. Tell me, Vaswani, do you know how to fly?!" Sanjay growled. She ground her feet against the concrete, and struggled to break free of his grasp. Jaime finally managed to get to his feet, and came charging. He yanked Sanjay back by the collar of his jacket, swinging him around to face him. He had finally let go of Satya, who rolled away from their legs. Jaime did the only thing he could think of. He started slamming his fist in Sanjay's clawed face as fury overtook him.

            "YOU'RE. NEVER. GONNA. HURT. HER. EVER. AGAIN!" Jaime roared, punctuating each word with another blow to his face. There was a satisfying crunch as he shattered his cheekbone and orbital socket. Blood quickly slicked his knuckles, and his punches started to slide off. He wrapped his metal hand around his throat, and began to squeeze.

            "Never again!" he hissed through bared teeth. Sanjay choked and clawed at Jaime's enameled forearm. In the dim light, he could see his face grow purple, and his eyes bulge in fear.

            "Jaime! Jaime, stop!" Satya sobbed behind him.

            "He fuckin' hurt ya', Satya! Fucked with yer head! They all did! He fuckin' tried t'kill ya! He fuckin' deserves it!" he shot back.

            "And you don't deserve to have his death on your hands, Jamison!" she cried.

            "The hell I don't!" he barked.

            "Jaime, PLEASE! It's over!" she sobbed. Sanjay's eyes began to roll, and Jaime stared with a sense of pleasure. He released him, and Sanjay dropped to the concrete, still alive, though unconscious.

            "You don't fuckin' deserve mercy," he spat at the man, though he knew he couldn't hear him. Still shaking from rage and adrenaline, he turned to Satya. She struggled to her feet. Her mask had been knocked off in the fight. Her eye was already beginning to swell shut from where the butt of the projector made contact. She shivered violently in the cold, and he came over, wrapping her up as she continued to sob into his shoulder. He wiped the blood off his hand onto his pant leg, and began to stroke the back of her head to comfort her.

            "Yer alright. He ain't gonna' hurt ya' no more..." he said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. Relief slowly overshadowed the adrenaline. _She's alive. Thank fuckin' god. She's alive._

            "Fuck... fuck that guy!" Hana growled as she stood up. She nursed her elbow, which was starting to swell, and she ran over to Hog, who was just starting to move.

            "Th-think I woulda' preferred t-takin' a bullet," he groaned.

            "Y'both alright?" Jaime asked.

            "I mean, we're not dead, if that's what you mean," Hana replied. Hog slowly pulled himself up, and trudged over.

            "We need t'get outta' here," he reminded him. Satya slowly pulled away, and held her hands up. He could finally see the hardlight cuffs around her wrists.

            "I need the projector," she finally stammered. Hana pointed where it had landed, and Satya crouched over, awkwardly picking it up. She studied it, made a few slight adjustments, and handed it to Hana.

            "Would you be so kind?" she asked. Hana nervously pulled the trigger, and a calming blue light slowly rendered the cuffs into pixilated sparks before vanishing entirely. It was then that Jaime noticed the lights on her gauntlet were dark, and the whole arm hung limply at her side. A glint caught his eye, and he looked at his foot, where something circular and shining lay. He recognized it for what it was. It was the lens from her palm. He stooped down, and scooped it up.

            "Satya?" He held the lens out to her, but she shook her head.

            "He hit me with an EMP. This gauntlet will never function again," she croaked. Her voice was raspy from sobbing, but he noticed bruising forming around her neck. _Shoulda' let me kill 'im!_ He slid the lens into his pocket.

            "I need to get back to the hotel room. I need to call Winston back," Hana informed, and started to shiver.

            "Whatta' we do 'bout him?" Hog asked while nudging Sanjay with is boot. Satya stared at the unconscious form of her former superior, and rain slowly started to fall.

            "He was planning an assassination of a board member. He is a traitor to the company. Leave him. Let them deal with him. I have proof enough against him, and possibly of Vishkar's own treachery. Hana? Take the projector with you," she instructed, and turned towards the teleporter without another word. Hana followed behind with eyes wide in surprise, but said nothing. _She has proof? I don't... what th'fuck is goin' on?!_ Jaime started towards the teleporter as well, but Hog didn't budge.

            "Mate, you comin'?" he asked. Hog looked up at him, and the gaping black pools of his mask stared back.

            "He could wake up b'fore Vishkar gets here. He can still come after Sym. He's dangerous. Kinda' fuck that hires hitmen. She ain't gonna' be safe s'long as he's breathin'," Hog stated. Jaime stared down at Sanjay, knowing his friend was right, but he remembered the way Satya sobbed and begged.

            "Don't act like ya' don't wanna' see 'im dead." Jaime's hands tightened into fists, and he grit his teeth.

            "Hog... she don't want that life fer me anymore. I gotta'... I can't..." he stammered in frustration. Hog reached down, and grasped Sanjay's arm, holding him up by the wrist. His head lolled, and Hog tuned to regard Jaime.

            "She didn't say nothin' 'bout me, though," he interjected, and trudged over to the edge of the helipad facing the alley.

            "Funny thing 'bout all this rain..." he started, and dangled the limp body over the edge, "...makes these rooftops awful slippery. Bloke's liable t'fall." He let go of Sanjay's wrist, and the man disappeared over the side of the building. The Junkers turned, and passed through the teleporter without a second thought.


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back aboard the dropship, Winston has some questions for Satya, and Jaime is not happy about her secrecy.

            Jamison sat on a bench in the cargo hold of the dropship, and held Satya on his lap. He stroked the back of her head, and tried to will his anger away. She was alive, and they had made it in time. She was alive, and Sanjay would never be able to hurt her ever again. She was alive, and he was incredibly relieved... and yet, he was also furious. He didn't want to be angry at her. Not then. It wasn't right. Not when she'd nearly died. And so he quietly ground his teeth in silence, and continued to run his fingers through her unbound hair.

            _How dare ya', Satya? How dare ya' go an' come inta' m'life, an' make me fall in love with ya', an' then go put yerself in danger? Why didn't ya' tell me? Why didn't ya' tell anyone what was goin' on?_ In the hotel room, she started to explain, but her mind raced too much. It all lay too fresh in her head, and she stammered out bits and pieces that didn't entirely make sense, but he was able to figure out the gist of what happened. She had discovered a cover-up, and she dug for further proof. She'd put herself in harm's way, and didn't tell anyone in Gibraltar. She said she didn't want it coming back to hurt any of them, least of all him and Hog.  _I coulda' got ya' outta' there weeks ago. Coulda' taken ya' away. But ya' didn't tell me. An' Hog an' Hana nearly carked it 'cause ya' kept more secrets. An' ya' wouldn't even let me have th'satisfaction a killin' the bastard!_ There were many deaths he regretted. Sanjay Korpal wouldn't have been one of them. 

He wouldn't say a damn thing to her about it. How could he? She already felt so guilty. So wretched. She'd apologized to them all the entire ride to the airfield. Hana and Hog forgave her immediately. Jaime knew he would too, eventually, but merely kept his mouth shut for fear he'd only upset her further.

            They had followed Winston's instructions. Satya checked out of her hotel room via phone. She had used the projector to disassemble the teleporter base. She'd wiped her room down for any possible prints that didn't belong to her, and collected her things. The four snuck around the hotel cameras, and took the stairs out towards the back of the building to remain unseen. Hana's driver never saw Satya's face, and they all made it to the airfield, where the dropship waited with only Lena, Angela, and Winston aboard. Apparently, the crew had made it all the way to Gibraltar when they received Hana's call, and the three immediately came back to get them. Once aboard, Angela tended to their injuries, starting with Satya.   

            "Please tell Winston I'll wait in the cargo hold when he's ready to speak to me," she murmured, and stepped below. Jaime followed as soon as Angela cleared him.

            She had her back facing him when he came down the steps. She didn't turn to acknowledge his presence. She just stood there, running her fingers along the edges of the now-useless gauntlet.

            "I think it'd be best if I speak to Winston alone," she quietly murmured. Jaime just walked up behind her, and laid a hand on her shoulder.

            "I know, but heard 'im say he might be a minute... thought ya' might not wanna wait alone," he offered. It was then that he sat on the bench, and pulled her up onto his lap. After what felt like a lifetime, he finally spoke.

            "You're gonna' be alright. Y'know that, right? Yer gonna' get past this," he said, hoping his words would bring encouragement.

            "Jaime... no matter what happens, please remember that I did what I did to protect you, and Hog, and Hana, and everyone," she nearly whispered. _I know... still don't mean I'm happy 'bout it._  The padding of Winston's feet broke the silence, and they turned to look over.

            "Fawkes, I'd rather speak to Symmetra...

            "Satya, Winston. Please. Just Satya," she interrupted. Winston's face was unreadable.

            "Very well, Satya. But regardless, I'd rather we be alone," he corrected. Jaime shook his head no.

            "No. Anythin' ya' have t'say t'her, you can say 'round me. Think that's fair," he replied. Winston looked from him to Satya to see if she approved, and she nodded while she slid off his lap. She stood in front of their superior with her eyes aimed at her feet. Her gauntlet hung lifelessly at her side, and she gripped the excess fabric of her skirt with her good hand. Winston brought up an empty crate, and took a seat. Jaime remained on his bench.

            "I want to know what happened. One of my agents gets kidnapped and attacked by her superior, who also happens to work for our primary investor. I need to know everything," Winston started. Satya slowly looked up, and took a steadying breath.

            "I'm afraid there's a lot to process. This will take a while, as I have to start from the beginning of my joining Overwatch," she began, and Winston waited silently for her to continue. Jaime gave her a nod, though he wasn't exactly sure why. Encouragement? Acceptance? Approval?

            "Shortly before I joined the Recall, Vishkar had just decided to withdraw from the Favelas. The protests there had led to Vishkar taking a hit in their stock… The company has changed. It is not what it once was. They used to stand for bringing order and helping the world. Now they stand for greed, or perhaps power. Or maybe it was always that way, and I am just now truly aware of it... I left to take a break from all that. I had hoped to wait it out, and hoped that they would change their ways in my absence. I initially thought that that was what they were trying to do when they invested in you, but I was wrong. I believe now that their reason for funding you was no more than a means to eventually restore their public image, and maybe have some form of personal army with which to do their bidding." Winston took her pause for a chance to ask her a question.

            "I figured as much. I was desperate for funding, and chose to accept that that was a possibility. What happened to trigger the chain of events tonight?" Satya swallowed hard, but continued.

            "As you know, I still held meetings with them on occasion, mostly to assist them on unfinished projects that I had left behind; the Tranquility Center being the most important. We went through not one, but two project leaders, one of whom was a person I had suggested myself. They never told me why. When I stepped in, I discovered that they were not just let go. They both had died; overworked to the point of physical stress and exhaustion taking their toll. The company had pushed the completion date for no other reason than to try and gain some form of immediate positive press. I also discovered that Sanjay had his own personal plot in the works. In short, he was setting up an assassination against one of the board members for a seat. That's what I discovered." She took another pause.

            "And you didn't tell me, or anyone else any of this, why?" he asked. Jaime was actually thankful Winston was asking the question he wanted to ask all night, and he knew she would answer Winston truthfully.

            "At that time, I didn't know why they moved the date. I assumed it was for something sinister, and I wanted more information. I needed more time to search for answers, or at least clues. I found some encrypted files, which I made copies of, but that was about it. I had hoped... I had hoped that at the gala, I could perhaps lure Sanjay into giving me some sort of answers. I have the entire night recorded for proof of his treachery," she continued, and pulled her earrings off one by one. 

            Jaime had no idea of the recording. None at all. She not only dug around for information; she had planned to put herself purposefully in his way, and didn't tell anyone what she was doing. Satya handed the jewelry to Winston, who examined them, and saw the subtle recording devices attached to them. He gave her a nod that he'd listen to them later, and slipped them into his pocket.

            "I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want this to come back against any of you. Vishkar is petty, and has no issue with going back on contracts if they feel slighted. I shudder to think what they'd do if they thought any of you were planning to aid me in my espionage. The gala was going to be my last chance to gain information, but when you all arrived, I aborted my plans," she explained. Winston's brow furrowed.

            "And what were you planning to do with the information you found?" he asked. Jaime watched her squirm just the slightest. It was very apparent she didn't exactly have a solid answer on that part, and she grew incredibly embarrassed.

            "I was hoping... I hoped that with the information you all found, I could help aid you in negotiations with new investors, or perhaps speed up the process of recalling the Petras act. Once we were no longer dependent upon their funding, I wanted to leak the information I had, and put an end to their schemes and cover-ups," she finally admitted. _Oh Satya. Satya, that's too much. Too many suits fer you ta' take on._

Jaime had almost wished he were dealing with Talon. Talon was easy. Talon didn't fight like Suits. Suits were devious and conniving. They rarely tried to destroy people physically, but preferred to trap people like him in such a way as to make his life a living hell. At least with Talon, the answer was considerably more simple; kill them before they killed him. Winston's brow remained furrowed.

            "I see. And clearly, this plan of yours backfired. I know you forewarned me at dinner, but you made it sound like we weren’t in direct danger… What happened tonight after you left the gala?" he prodded. Satya looked over at Jaime for encouragement, and he gave her a weak smile.

            "We went and got something to eat, and then went to my hotel to grab my bags and check out. It was just Hana and I. When we got to my floor, she received a phone call. I went ahead, but Sanjay lay in wait. He... he discovered I'd been in his office. He wanted answers of his own. That's when he subdued me, and took me to the Vishkar office. What happened after that has all been recorded," she said while motioning to the pocket that held her earrings. Satya's voice had grown strained after the last little bit, and it was very apparent she was reaching the end of her rope.

            "We done here? Think she's had enough f'one night. Everything ya' need's been recorded, yeah?" he cut in. Winston was not pleased with his interruption.

            "No. I need to know what happened with Sanjay Korpal. You arrived, you fought, you left. When Vishkar finds him, is he going to be an issue for us?" Winston asked.

            "Gonna' be awful hard f'him t'say anythin', what with him bein' dead an' all," Jaime replied. Satya's eyes widened in shock. It wasn't the way he wanted her to find out, but Winston needed to know, and she'd have to learn eventually.

            "How did he die?" Winston asked, though from his tone, he seemed to already know the answer.

            "Took a little tumble off th'roof," Jaime answered after folding his arms in front of him. A slight smirk of satisfaction tugged at the corner of his mouth, and it did not go unnoticed. The ape's eyes grew red.

            "DAMMIT FAWKES! THIS ISN'T A LAUGHING MATTER!" Winston roared, and pound his fist against the side of the crate he was seated upon. Satya flinched in response. Jaime held his hands up, hoping to placate their superior.

            "Didn't say it was, mate. But I ain't gonna' lie an' say the bastard didn't have it comin'. Couldn't really let 'im live after all that. Vishkar woulda' found 'im. He woulda' made up some shit an' put th'blame on her, or us. Or maybe he woulda' snuck off t'try an' finish what he started," he explained. He'd had enough dealings with guys like Sanjay, and he knew how they all would have gone down had he ever shown them an ounce of mercy. Winston's eyes flicked between the two of them before he took a steadying breath, and climbed off the crate. He stood tall, and looked at them both.

            "Satya, you purposefully put yourself in danger to gather intel that I never asked you for. You put yourself at risk, as well as the lives of several team members, and possibly Overwatch's own continuation. I will need time to review your evidence, but the fact remains that I will need to hold a disciplinary hearing regarding this." Satya kept her face stoic and collected, but she couldn't hide the tremor in her response.

            "Yes, Winston. Of course," she replied. Jaime didn't like that at all. Mad as he was at her secrecy, she had already been through enough, and now this?

“My phone was damaged in the fight… When Vishkar inevitably calls, what will you tell them?” she hesitantly asked. Winston puzzled over her question.

“It will depend on the nature of their call. Either you came home with us, safe and sound with no interaction with Sanjay, or you have gone missing, in which case, I will find you a safe house to be moved to until I am able to smooth things over,” he replied. Satya gave an accepting nod.

“It is more than I deserve. Thank you,” she murmured. Winston’s face softened at her forlorn response.

       “Satya, you’re still a part of this team, and I still want to keep you safe. This is… this is not a situation I wished to handle again. It was secrets and personal vendettas and missions like these that slowly unraveled Overwatch in the first place. I know it wasn’t your intention, but… I could have done something about this had you told me sooner.” Winston then turned to speak with Jaime, and he wasn’t surprised. He was fairly certain the ape was about to lecture him about not waiting for the rest of the team to arrive, or for going off on his own, but he already knew what he would say in response. Lena’s voice, however, cut in over the speaker.

            "Possible enemy aircraft spotted! Winston, get your arse up here!" Lena piped. Winston's eyes nearly popped out of his skull, and he immediately turned to climb up to the cockpit. Satya's head whipped over to Jaime, and they shared a mutual look of surprise and worry before they also turned to follow.

            They found they were the last to reach the navigation console. Winston had already hopped into the copilot seat. Angela, Hog, and Hana waited behind them. From out the windshield, they could make out the shimmer of a cloaked aircraft.

            "Have they spotted us?" Winston asked. Lena shook her head no.

            "No. The new cloaking system you installed seems to be working just fine. Seems they're headin' the other way. Do we follow?" Lena asked. Winston nodded, and she slowly turned the ship around.

            "Winston! We are in no shape to engage with a possible enemy!" Angela cut in. Winston looked over his shoulder.

            "Yes, but I need to know where they are going!" he shot back.

            "London," Satya interrupted, and when all eyes were on her, she continued, "I overheard Sanjay on his phone. He mentioned something about having to meet someone, and in our fight, he also said his time was limited. It may not be Talon we are dealing with here. At least, not directly."

            "Winston, what do we do? Do we engage?" Lena asked.

            "We have no means of defense beyond the standard side arms aboard. Four of us have managed to get shot with an experimental weapon, and we've all been awake for almost twenty-four hours. We are in no position to pursue them!" Angela reminded. Winston growled. 

            "Just keep a distance, but follow. I want Athena to try to assess if it’s Talon or not, if she can," he instructed. The group tensed up.

            "Winston..." Angela hissed, but he silenced her with a look.

            "Angela, I do not intend to start a fight. If they had detected us, they would have turned by now," he growled back. Jaime held his breath. _This is bad. This is really bad!_ After a few minutes of tense silence, Athena's scanning finished its report. Winston looked at the screen.

            "A small craft. Couldn't hold more than four or five agents. But it doesn't happen to be a vessel designed for heavy combat... I won't risk going any further though. If there's one of them, there may be more, but it doesn’t look like Talon’s tech. Lena, turn this ship around. We're heading home," Winston announced. Jaime let out a clenched breath in thanks. A fight without bombs? He was a shitty shot with a gun, and Satya's gauntlet was down, which meant there'd be no form of shield or construct. Winston reached into his pocket, and pulled out Satya's earrings. He climbed out of his seat, and head towards the back of the ship.

            "I'm going to start downloading the audio. There's much to process. Everyone get some rest. We'll be home in about an hour and a half." he stated, and walked out of the cockpit. _Yeah, okay! Really easy night fer sleepin'!_ Too much. The whole day had been too much, even for him. It almost seemed surreal that it was finally coming to an end, but the four of them head back towards the main deck in hopes to find a comfortable spot to lay their heads. Jaime grabbed a few pillows and blankets out of a supply closet and found a corner to tuck up into with Satya. She nestled in, but neither were ready for sleep.

            "Satya... you awake?" he whispered. He could feel her nod.

            "You doin' alright?" he asked. She shook her head no. He pulled her a little closer, and began rubbing her back.

            "Worst is over..." he breathed into her scalp, and she didn't immediately react.

            "...I know," she finally replied, "...Jaime, thank you." He didn't respond, because, frankly, he didn't know what to say.

            "I promised I'd return after all this, and I meant it. I just didn't intend for it to fall apart like this," she whispered. Jaime let out a strained chuckle.

            "An' here I thought I was th'trouble-maker on our team. Imagine that? Boss is always jabberin' at me ta' b'have myself, an' Miss Follows-The-Rules goes an' tries ta' take her whole comp'ny down by her lonesome!" he joked. The faintest hint of a smile flashed across her face. It was so incredibly brief, but it didn't go unnoticed.

            "There we go. See? Already got ya' smilin'. Yer gonna' get past this, just like all th'other times. It's a New Year. Best we leave th'old one behind us, right? Y’said so y’self." 

            She never did fall asleep on the flight back, but then, neither did he, nor Hog, nor Hana. No one felt particularly safe enough while still in the air, and it wasn't until the dropship landed in the hanger that weariness finally began to set in. The sky was just beginning to transition from inky blue to shades of red and gold. A chill still clung to the air, and their breaths came out in puffs as they exited the drafty hangar. Torbörn hopped out of the seat he'd been waiting in, still dressed in his tuxedo. It was apparent that he'd waited for them to return, and he came running up to greet them.

            "Look'it you, keepin' an old man up all night with worry!" he chided. Satya gave him a weak smile.

            "Apologies, my friend. It was not my intention to make anyone worry," she responded. Torb's eyes flicked to the dead lights on her gauntlet, and he cleared his throat.

            "Got into a bit of a scrap, I hear?" he prodded.

            "Yeah, you could say that..." Jaime muttered. Either Torb didn't hear him, or he chose to ignore him altogether.

            "Can I take a look at it? May be able to get it workin' again..." he offered. Satya removed the prosthesis, and handed it to him.

            "It was blasted by an EMP. There's nothing that can be done at this point, but you may take a look, I suppose," she informed. Torb looked it over, and turned it around. He pointed at the palm, where the lens once nestled.

            "Where'd de lens go?" he asked. Satya shook her head, but Jaime rummaged in his pocket. He held the crystal disc up between his thumb and index finger.

            "Here ya' go, mate. Knock yerself out," he said, flipping it like a coin before catching it again, and handing it to Torb. The lens was once again slipped into a pocket for safekeeping, and he bid them goodnight before heading to his own room. Satya pulled her rolling suitcase behind her, and Jaime carried her last two bags. The halls and corridors were silent, and only the bare minimum of lights guided them towards her door. Jaime pulled the keycard out of his new wallet (a Christmas gift from Jesse), and opened the door for her. 

            He squinted at the sudden harsh light from above, but she quickly switched the lighting over to her lamp. She took a moment to assess the room. He had only slept in it for a few nights, and went out of his way to keep it exactly how she had left it... well, he tried, anyways. She absentmindedly adjusted the blanket, and straightened the pillows.

            "I will not lie. It almost feels surreal to be back in here. This whole... this whole day has been surreal..." she observed.

            "Yeah? Well, it's over now. C'mon. Let's go t'bed," he said, hoping to keep her mind from dwelling on the events of the last few hours. He sat his mask on her desk, and she did the same. He gladly loosened his tie, and pulled it out from under his collar. He draped his jacket over the back of her chair, and it was then that he noticed her staring down at her side with a look of horror and heartbreak.

            "Jaime... Jaime, my pendant...." she whimpered, and covered her mouth to stifle a cry. It was a final insult added upon too much injury. He looked down, and ground his teeth some more. The stone was still there, but the feathers had been torn to shreds. One was completely missing. The gold setting was bent, and the sapphire wobbled loosely. He noticed her whole dress was much in the same sorry state. The fabric was torn and shredded from being dragged across concrete. Splatters of blood (both hers and Sanjay's) stained the silk, and the whole gown hung off of her in a rather drab manner. Jaime crouched down, and unpinned it to better look at it.

            "S'alright. Sapphire's still here. That's all that matters fer now. The rest can be fixed or replaced later, right?" he said, hoping to soothe her. She gave a reluctant nod, and he set the piece on her desk. He unbuttoned his vest, draped it over his coat, and set to work on the shirt underneath. Satya managed to get the zipper at her side, and slid the gown off, revealing the black slip underneath. He was surprised at how quickly his body reacted at the sight of her near-nakedness, and he bit the side of his cheek to try and quell the surge of heat snaking through him. _Fuckin'... fuckin' goddammit! That's what shoulda' happened t'night! We were s'pose t'get home. Come back here. I was gonna' tear that dress off'a her, an' give her a proper welcome home! But no! That fuckin' piece a shit tried killin' her, an' now it's all gonna wind up her head again, an' she don't deserve that, an' it ain't fair! It ain't fuckin' fair!_

            Satya stepped into her water closet, where she proceeded to brush her teeth, and wash her face. Having removed her makeup, he finally noticed how gaunt her face had grown. Dark half-moons hung under her eyes. Her cheeks had hollowed a touch. She reached into her suitcase, and pulled out the satin pajamas that Hana had sent. The slip fell to the floor, and he could see how thin she looked. The dim light cast shadows over rib bones, and he didn't like it one bit. His eyes locked with hers for only a moment, and she popped her pajamas on as quickly as possible, as though she were embarrassed.

            "Satya..." He swore at himself for being so angry back on the dropship, but he finally saw why she put her life on the line the way she did. Here she was, gone for just over a month, only to return a shell of the person she was before. Two of her predecessors had died, and that was all on top of the mountain of shady things Vishkar had done in the past. She had taken it upon herself to put an end to the company's abuse of its employees, and to put a stop at their unchecked grab for power. Yes, she was thin. Yes, she was haggard. Yes, she had pulled back into her own silence for comfort. And yet, the fact that she was there, and alive, and still wanting the company to answer for its crimes meant she wasn't too far gone. She truly would survive the ordeal because, above all else, she was strong.

            "Yes?" she prodded after moments of his quiet contemplation. What would he say? What could he say?

"I just... Christ, I'm just glad yer home."


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vishkar doesn't call, and something is amiss. The team has gone from out of the frying pan, and into the fire.

            Jaime woke with a hand cupped around a supple breast, a mouthful of Satya's hair, and a prominent bulge straining against the fabric of his boxer-briefs. He spat her hair out, but didn't pull his hand away. She was still sleeping, and he wouldn't dare disturb her after such an ordeal. He glanced at the replaced clock on her nightstand. It was just after noon, which meant he'd managed to get a whopping five hours of sleep in, but he supposed it was better than none at all.

            Satya's sleep had been fitful at best. She had woken him a few times with flinches and whimpers. Soft mumbled protests of "no", "stop", and "don't hurt them" did not make for a pleasant rest. A few times, she'd spoken in her native tongue, though he assumed she was saying much the same. He took a page from her book, and every time a nightmare reared its ugly head, he'd nuzzle the top of her head, and whisper comforting words until she'd ease back into more peaceful dreams. 

            He slowly slid his hand out from under her rucked up top, and tried pulling away. She immediately turned over in her sleep to search for him.

            "...don... don't take'm away... give'm back..." she muttered, and her arm reached out to try and grab him. _Aw fuck!_ He pulled back up, and wrapped up around her.

            "Sh-sh-sh... right here. Ain't goin' nowhere," he reassured. Her furrowed brow relaxed at the sound of his voice, and he assumed she'd drifted back off. Her eyes started to open.

            "Jaime? Ohwut time z'it?" she slurred.

            "Baby, go back t'sleep," he said, stroking her head with closed eyes. _Too fuckin' early f'this! Well... not 'nough sleep, anyways._ Her eyes fluttered open just a bit more.

            "No. No what time is it?" she asked, a little more urgently. Jaime groaned.

            "Quarter past twelve. G'back t'sleep," he grumbled. Satya's eyes shot open, and she sat bolt upright.

            "No! Nonono! Oh! Oh this bad! This is really bad!" she rushed, and started to scramble out of bed. The twisted sheets and blankets around her trapped her just long enough for him to grab her wrist.

            "Satya, stop! You're home, you're safe! Get back in bed!" he snapped a bit more angrily than he intended. He immediately let go when he saw the look of panic on her face.

            "Jaime! It's noon, and Vishkar hasn't tried to contact me at all yet! Something is wrong!" she rushed, and continued to extract herself from the tangled mess of bedding. As if on cue, a knock sounded on her door.

            "Sym! Winston needs ya' t'come down love. Got somethin' big happenin'!" Lena called. 

            "Yes, I'll be right down!" she rushed. Satya pulled her robe out of her suitcase, and tossed Jaime his pants. He fumbled to get them on one-handed, and then popped on his arm and peg leg. Satya still tried to knot the belt of her robe, but she had difficulty with her lack of a gauntlet. He helped her adjust it across her shoulders, and gave the belt a quick tie before she slid on slippers. He tossed his shirt back on, but didn’t bother doing up the buttons. 

            Winston, much to their surprise, was in the common room. They all were, and they gathered around the TV with mouths agape broken with moments of muttering. Jaime tried to see what they were all staring at, and when the team realized Satya had entered the room, they stopped and cleared a path to Winston. The ape stared at the screen, never breaking concentration. Satya looked as well, and gave a gasp in surprise. In the silence, he began to hear the sound of the reporter's voice.

            "...proof that Vishkar did, in fact, plan the fires and explosions that rocked parts of Rio De Janeiro eighteen months ago. As the email leaks unfold, more allegations are being made concerning events that seemed to take place over the course of the last two years. We're not sure for certain who the whistleblower is... One moment... yes, I'm just being told arrests have been made against several of the Vishkar Board of Directors. No names just yet... Alex?" The reporter stood outside the head office in Utopaea, and police were surrounding the building. _Oh, oh what's happenin'? This is big, an' she only got th'tip a the iceberg!_ The feed switched back over to the anchor in the news station.

            "Arrests are being made, but the hacks themselves came out of Vishkar's office in London..." the anchor continued, "where police have found the body of one Vishkar employee, whom I've been told was also implicated in the email leaks. As of this time, Sanjay Korpal was the primary perpetrator in nearly all of the allegations. Sources say the person who leaked the emails is now also the primary suspect in his possible slaying, although investigators are not ruling out suicide..." Satya covered her mouth in horror. Winston muted the screen, and looked over at her.

            "My office. Now." he curtly ordered, and climbed off the couch. Satya followed behind him dutifully, and Jaime followed suit. Winston looked back behind him, and scowled.

            "This doesn't concern you!" he snapped.

            "The hell it don't!" Jaime snapped right back.

            "You're testing my patience! Unless you have a ring on that finger, your place is right here!" Winston growled, and thundered off towards his office. Satya had to jog to keep up. Jaime grit his teeth (which he wondered if he’d ever stop doing), and began to run after them, but a hand gripped his arm tightly.

            "Wouldn't recommend that, partner, unless you wanna' lose another arm. Winston's not the guy who's buttons you wanna' be pressin' right now," Jesse warned. Jaime whipped his head back.

            "What'd he mean by my place?!" Jaime seethed. Jesse cleared his throat.

            "Sorry to burst your bubble, Rat, but you're just a merc and a boyfriend. Don't have any legal right to be in there, so you'll just have to wait till he's done talkin' to her, alright?" Jesse tried to explain.

            "Just a...? I WAS FUCKING THERE LAST NIGHT!" he roared. Jesse stepped back in slight shock, not so much at what he said, but at the unexpected outburst.

            "C'mon, Rat. Let's just watch the news. I'm sure she'll fill you in when she's all done, alright?" Jesse said, keeping his voice as steady as possible. Jaime never felt so defeated. He'd hoped that when they got back, all the Vishkar shit would be winding down. He'd hoped that everything would go back to a normal pace. Well, as close to normal as his life was ever going to get. He trudged back to the common room, where everyone stopped and stared at him.

            "Piss off," he grunted under his breath, and pulled up a chair next to Hog, who sat behind the couch. Back to his usual leather pig mask, Hog never broke his attention from the screen, which had been unmuted. The crew watched in silence as the story looped, and Jaime tried to piece it all together.

            In the early morning hours, Sanjay's body had been found in the alley behind the London office. Around that same time, a massive security breach leaked emails and dealings of all sorts, which proved Vishkar's direct involvement with the catastrophe in Rio. His stomach ached with worry as arrests were being made.

            "What does this mean for us?" Mei asked, breaking the silence. Torb's eyebrows knit.

            "It means we're finished. At least, fer a while. Can't run a facility like dis without deir fundin'. At least we can wait until de Petras Act is repealed, an' come back to it," Torb answered. Zarya huffed.

            "And let Talon run unchecked? We have a mission scheduled for next week!" she cut in.

            "Oh, like we were doing anything of use! A team our size? Barely made a dent in their ranks!" Pharah snapped.

            "Oi, now! Enough of this! We ain't dead in the water yet! We got other smaller investors helpin' us! And Winston made sure to set aside funds from all those private jobs we took on. It could float us a little longer, so long as we tighten our belts and purse strings! And we've got some powerful friends in the UN, too!" Lena said, trying to maintain a positive attitude. Jaime, frankly, didn't give a shit about any of that. All he wanted to know was what was going on in Winston's office.

            "Hey, guys! I think the real issue here is just how much information was leaked. Hate to say it, but if all this evidence has come out against the company, what if their other 'investments' come under investigation?" Hana pointed out, and the room once again grew silent. _Oh. Oh fuck!_ They weren't just going to lose their funding. The whole team could very well be arrested for taking part in the Recall. _No! Fuckin' every time I try an' go clear my name an' go legit, it just comes back an' bites me in the ass! First Sydney, then Dorado, an' now fuckin' this!_

            "Winston has the funds laundered under several phony non-profits. I just hope Vishkar was smart enough to cook their books better than they secured 'em!" Lena said. In the pause between discussions, a reporter in London caught their attention.

            "While the leaks and security breaches appear to be the work of a skilled hacker, investigators have not ruled out possible involvement within the company, and several employees have been taken away for questioning," the reporter stated on one half of the screen. The anchor on the other half cut in.

            "Several, but I'm getting reports that one in particular has gone missing. Any word on that?" the anchor asked. There was a pause as the London reporter caught the anchor's question over his headset.

            "Not much, I'm afraid. Police are still on the search for the missing employee, by the name of Satya Vaswani. Whether she is a perpetrator, or perhaps a victim herself remains to be seen..."

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            "I haven't had a chance to listen to your recording yet. I uploaded the sound files, but nodded off while waiting for Vishkar to call. When I woke up of my own accord, I grew worried, so I started scanning the news to see if there was any mention of the... incident. After seeing the news channels, I realized why I didn't get a call. Did you know anything about these leaks prior to?" Winston asked, breaking the tense silence in his office. Satya shook her head no. She thought her very apparent shock and surprise at the news would have been answer enough, but she was beginning to realize that she was very quickly losing Winston's trust. _And rightfully so._ The computer screen behind him was streaming the Global News Network feed, though he had muted it as well.

            "You found proof of Sanjay's assassination attempt, and some other files, is that correct?" he asked. Satya nodded her head yes.

            "I did. After I discovered the nature of my predecessors' deaths, I went into Sanjay's office. I found a tablet with communications between him and a hitman, as well as an acceptance letter for a board position. There were also several encrypted files, which I knew I would not be capable of opening. I copied them onto a data drive, and had it shipped here. It's supposed to arrive tomorrow," she repeated. Winston let out a pent up breath.

            "I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume it was the group in the ship we saw last night. Any idea who would have been aboard?" he asked. Satya shook her head no.

            "It could be someone within the company, though Vishkar was not without its enemies, as you are well aware," she answered. Winston pondered her words.

            "This is a rather... precarious situation we're currently in. On the one hand, this leak gives you temporary cover from your company, and buys me time to try and figure out what the hell is even going on. On the other hand, it puts us all in danger of being found out. While the hacks came from London, it will only open the door for more investigations, and I worry they'll go through Vishkar's books with a fine-toothed comb... At the very least, we can kiss our funding goodbye," he growled. The guilt was downright crushing. Satya looked away at the computer screen behind him as the reporter's mouth moved in silent conversation. Something on the screen flashed for just a moment, catching her eye.

            "Wait! Wait! Can you reverse the news feed?" she urgently requested. Winston looked behind him, and followed her request. He scrolled it back a minute or so, and turned the volume up.

            "We have breaking news that the source of the leaks has been traced back to a single tablet found in Sanjay Korpal's office..." a different reporter started. Satya watched as police and investigators carried the tablet away in a plastic evidence bag, and she silently prayed that she'd wiped her prints off thoroughly. She had been very careful in that regard, though she started doubting her ability to cover her tracks. How could she have been so stupid as to not think he'd had some form of camera or security software at his disposal? She hoped Sanjay had been secretive enough to delete her image off his hard drive to cover his own tracks. Winston muted the feed again.

            "So that's the source, so I suppose we're in luck, as we have a copy on the way. Any chance there's a mention of Overwatch within those files?" he asked.

            "I...I don't know. I imagine if there were, we'd have heard about it by now," she answered. Winston pushed the tips of his fingers together, and paused in thought. Satya remained silent, and focused on her breathing in an effort to calm herself. Her nerves were fraying. The physical exhaustion was taking its toll on both her mind and body. Despite Angela's medical care, her body still ached from her fight. She felt like a shell of the person she once was, and she worried just how much more of it she could possibly take. Her stomach gave a loud growl, and she cursed at it silently. Food was the last thing she needed to worry about. A very loud and rapid pounding echoed through the door.

            "Mate! Open up!" Jaime barked. Winston's eye twitched.

            "I AM NOT FINISHED!" Winston roared back. _Jaime, please! Now is not the time for this!_

"AN' I DONT GIVE A FLYIN' FUCK!" Jaime roared right back.

            "When all of this is over, I am going to jam that peg leg of his either down his throat or up his ass, so help me Darwin!" Winston hissed under his breath. Jaime kept beating at the door, and Winston finally had enough. He leaped over the desk, and punched the switch.

            "WHAT?!" he bellowed in the Junker's face. Unfazed, Jaime strode right past him, and went to the computer screen. He switched the channel to a different news network, and unmuted it.

            "Take a look'it this shit!" he snipped, and pointed at the screen, where Satya's official Vishkar photo loomed with the word "missing" underneath it. _Oh! Oh this will never end, will it?_ Winston's rage temporarily dissipated as he watched the news unfold.

            "They're takin' th'London employees in fer questionin', but they think she's either dead or on th'run!" he quickly explained. Winston took a moment to close his eyes, and calm himself.

            "Junkrat? Please inform everyone to head to the debriefing room immediately. Symm... Satya, please follow me," he instructed, and without another word, Winston head out the door. Satya once again followed behind, and she turned on the lights to the debriefing room. She took a seat towards the front as Winston paced by his usual podium. It wasn't long before the crew assembled inside, and took their seats. Jaime, for once in his life, sat at the front next to her, rather than his usual spot with Hog. The crew, sensing the tension, remained silent.

            "Alright. You've been filled in with what happened last night, I'm sure, and you all watched the news with me this morning, so let's cut to the chase. I don't know how much information was exposed. I don't know if there will be further digging into Vishkar's books, and as of this moment Satya is a person of interest in this case. On a positive note, a copy of the exposed intel will be arriving here tomorrow, and from there I can figure out just how screwed we are," Winston flatly stated. The room remained silent.

            "Good! No interruptions. Alright. I'm not risking this right now. I have some contacts who might be able to smooth this over for us, but I'm not taking chances. You all need to get the hell out of Dodge!" he informed.

            "And where are we to go?" Pharah asked.

            "Home, for now. Consider it an extended vacation, but you all can't be here. You all can pick your destination, Lena and I'll fly you out there, and then we wait. Understood?" The crew exchanged uneasy looks, but nodded acceptance.

            "Good. Now, I need somebody to offer a spot for Satya here. Somewhere hidden, away from any major cities. Is there anyone who'd be willing to open their home for her?" he asked. Reinhardt cleared his throat.

            "I have a hunting lodge in ze Black Forest. Very remote, and surrounded by dense voods and a private lake," Reinhardt offered. Satya was touched by the offer, and the thought of being somewhere hidden brought a small sense of relief. Winston nodded his approval.

            "Yeah, that's all fine and dandy, but what about those of us who are still technically on the run?" Jesse cut in while signaling himself, Jaime, and Hog. Satya's stomach knotted up. 

            "You three can stay vith me as well! I have plenty of room!" Reinhardt once again offered. He almost seemed delighted by the prospect of hosting a full house. Winston approved that as well, and the knot in her stomach eased back. _At least... at least he will be there with me, and I know they'll be safe!_

            "Alright. You all have an hour to make arrangements. Pack what you can, and get your asses on that dropship!" Winston instructed, and dismissed them. Satya head straight to her room to grab her suitcase. _At least my packing is already taken care of..._  she felt a tap on her shoulder as she was about to open her door. She spun around to see Hana looking at her glassy-eyed.

            "Hey! Um... I..." Hana started, but seemed to be at a loss for words. Satya looked at her friend, and felt another wave of crushing guilt wash over her. She reached forward, and pulled Hana in a hug.

            "Hana... I'm sorry you got caught up in all of this. I'm sorry you were hurt and nearly killed on my behalf. You give so much to me, and I bring nothing but harm upon you. You deserve a better friend," she said, holding her tight. Never had she hugged a friend like that before. Here she had a friend who had shown her nothing but kindness, and she had let her down. Satya felt a dampness on her shoulder where Hana's face was buried. It wasn't a heavy cry or sob. It was soft, and small, and sweet. Hana tried to put on a brave face, and sucked back a breath to stop the tears.

            "And you deserve to forgive yourself. It won't happen right away. I know you. But, please try to forgive yourself. Don't let this shut you down, okay?" she said. Satya was slightly startled by Hana's words. Amongst everything, she still was with her, and still wanted her to be well. Hana slowly pulled away from her hug, and wiped her face with the back of her hand.

            "Sorry... didn't want to get heavy there. You got a lot on your plate as it is. Just... don't be a stranger this time. It's safe to call. Use Jesse's phone, okay?" she said.

            "Yes, Hana. I will. Thank you," she softly replied. Hana went into her own room without another word, and Satya stepped back into hers. She opened up the suitcase on her floor. Nearly every blouse or dress inside sported a Vishkar logo in some fashion. She weeded out anything with the trademark V, which left a considerable amount of room to fill. Satya couldn't deal with the pile of clothes. Not at that point. She shoved everything into the hamper in her closet, and pulled out any clothes that were free from corporate branding. The gown was tossed into a basket, and her pendent was tucked back into its gray case. She knew she wouldn't wear it. It was in a rather sorry state, and she doubted she'd have an opportunity to repair it in a hunting lodge, but she didn't want to leave the piece behind. She slid it into her suitcase, and zipped it back shut.

            Realizing she was still in her pajamas, she pulled out what few warm clothes she had, and changed into them. She hadn't showered since the previous day, and despite the hasty washing last night, traces of her makeup were still smeared across her face. Her hair was a mess. Her room was a mess. _My whole life is a mess..._ but she couldn't afford a come-apart. She took the moment to wash her face again, and brush her hair. She quickly made her bed, and folded Jaime's jacket and vest. Straightening her room, and grooming herself in some fashion made her feel marginally more in control of the situation. Jaime knocked on her door a few minutes later.

            "You 'bout ready?" he asked. Satya opened the door, and threw her jacket on as best she could.

            "As much as I'll ever be," she murmured. Jaime helped her do up the zipper on her coat, and she wrapped the scarf from Torbörn around her neck. She noticed a small rucksack hanging off his shoulder, and he was wearing, of all things, a bright orange sweater with a black skull and crossbones on it. She raised an eyebrow.

            "Christmas gifts. Zarya knit it f'me. It's a bit itchy, but I wanna' be warm..." he hastily explained. Satya couldn't suppress a small smile. Even with everything else falling apart around her, he could still make her grin. It was brief, but incredibly welcomed. Then she remembered their intended destination; a German forest... in winter... which meant there'd be snow. She gave an involuntary shiver at the memory of the debacle in the workshop. She had made it clear in no uncertain terms to anyone who heard her story what she thought of that dreaded white mess.

            "One thing is certain, at least. No one will think to look for me in Germany."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the last of my chapters drafted per-health issues, so if things start to sound different, please do not hesitate to message me on tumblr. I'd actually really appreciate it. However, I'm feeling very confident with my cognitive faculties, and have already started drafting the next chapter. My husband says it sounds on-par with all my other chapters so far, so that is also encouraging. Keeping this story going cheers me up, and hearing from all of you brightens my days. I really want to see this project through, and I still have a bit further to go.


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reinhardt happily plays host, and leads the group on a tour through his lodge. The rest of the group reaches a unanimous conclusion: snow is awful.

            Hana bawled her eyes out as the group readied to leave the dropship. She was the last person to say her goodbyes to them. Satya gave her a tight hug, and tried to comfort her friend as best she could. Hana then hugged Jaime tightly around the waist, and told him to "take care of Sym, or I'll kick you in the shin!" Hana then proceeded to hug Hog (as best she could), and told him he owed her fifty bucks from their last bet. Hana wasn't done with the hugs, though. She moved to Jesse, and begged him to only cook pancakes and nothing else. Even Reinhardt wasn't safe from her tear-filled embrace.

            "Little Hana, do not cry! I will keep your friends safe! It vould be my honor!" he beamed. Hana wailed some more.

            "H-hog d-doesn't eat pork, an' Sym d-doesn't eat beef, b-but dairy is okay, and R-rat eats anything b-because he's a b-bottomless pit, b-but he hates green beans, an'..." but Reinhardt's friendly chuckle cut her off.

            "I vill remember. Do not vorry. I will have zem call you every day, yes? Now you have fun in Los Angeles, and send me a copy of your new album once it is recorded! I look forward to your collaboration with Lucio!" Reinhardt replied. Hana dried her eyes, and gave Sym one more hug.

            "Remember what I said, okay?" she whispered into her ear.

            "I will," Satya replied.

            "I love you, Sym," she said

            "I love you too, Hana," Satya whispered back. The door opened, and a blast of cold winter air caused her to take in a sharp breath. Jaime hissed a few expletives, and jammed a wool cap down over his head. Winston had outfitted them all with some basic cold-weather gear, but nothing could prepare them for their first real foray into subfreezing temperatures.

            "Ah! Seems ve're in luck! It's a bit of a varm spell for vinter!" Reinhardt cheerfully called as he led the way. Jesse grumbled a bit, and turned up the collar to his jacket. Hog said nothing, but his breaths seemed more labored. Satya could hear Jaime's teeth chattering away as he wrapped a scarf around his face, popped on earmuffs over his hat, and pulled a lone mitten over his hand. She was fairly certain if left to his own devices, he would have doubled up on everything for good measure. The hangar they had stopped at was more of a watch-station for search and rescue crews, and as such was fairly empty. A lone attendant (aware of who Reinhardt was, and also aware of the fact that silence was often rather profitable) had a vehicle all set for them. They climbed into the Humvee after loading up their smaller luggage, and Reinhardt cranked the heater. It only marginally seemed to help. _I just want to be warm again!_

            London was by no means comfortable in her mind, but it was world's better than the biting winds currently whipping around her. The snow they quickly crunched through on the way to the truck made her feet feel numb, despite her boots and socks. _I should have worn the warm socks Reinhardt sent me!_ The weather, however, was a terrific distraction from the chaos swirling in her brain. It was difficult to dwell on the insanity that was her life when her teeth were chattering, and her only concern was trying not to freeze to death. She bunched up with Jaime, and the two miserably clacked their teeth together. She didn't know how he could be so cold, yet still radiate heat through his coat. It was like snuggling up to her own personal space-heater. 

            "D-don't you d-dare m-move an inch! I s-still n-need t-to thaw out!" she stuttered through clacking teeth. Jaime chuckled, and pulled her a little closer.

            "H-hog, ya w-wanna' g-get in on th-this? I'm t-told I c-can h-heat a room!" Jaime offered. Hog wheezed a laugh.

            "C-course I kn-know th-that. W-why y-you th-think I st-stuck around ya at n-night?" he replied. Jaime shrugged.

            "Th-thought ya j-just l-liked t-ta c-cuddle," he answered back, and a rather amusing image painted itself in Satya's imagination of Jaime curled up on Hog's lap like a pet cat.

            "C-can I g-get in on th-this? Us d-desert b-boys d-don't d-do so well in th-this c-cold!" Jesse cut in. He didn't wait for Jaime to give a yes or no, and merely wiggled a little closer. Jesse hissed a sigh of relief, but if the close proximity of the cowboy bothered Jaime at all, he didn't show it. Reinhardt merely drove along the snowy roads merrily humming to himself. The heat from the vehicle finally hit a comfortable temperature, and the quartet of warm-weathered wretches were able to relax.

            "I am so excited to show you all my lodge! Been in ze family for generations! I spent many summers and vinters zere vith my family! It may need a good cleaning, zough. I have not been zere since last year. I have an assistant zat keeps it up for me, zough she is avay on her own holiday. I did not vant to disturb her good time," he clucked. Satya didn't realize he had an assistant. In truth, she had lived such an independent life that it never occurred to her that the other members may have had their own circle of friends and family outside of Overwatch. No one ever really spoke of their lives outside. She wondered if Hana had family of her own, though she supposed if she did, she would have mentioned it. Was Hana, like Jaime, an orphan, too? Satya thought back on her own life. _For all I know, my parents may very well be alive_... That thought brought very little comfort. She had no clue who her father was, and she highly doubted her mother knew herself. And her mother... well... there was a reason Satya ran off to the train station by herself to meet with the Vishkar scout. She doubted her mother even noticed her absence. _Now is not the time for this._ She shook her head clear of the negative thoughts starting to unspool. She wanted to be somewhere quiet and safe before she could hope to process all that had happened. She took a few breaths, and built her mental dam.

            Reinhardt turned on the radio, and found a station playing some sort of Eurobeat. German was one of the few languages she wasn't familiar with beyond the rudimentary level, and the lyrics made very little sense. It seemed to placate their driver though, so no one complained. Jaime bounced his knee in rhythm with it, though she couldn't tell if the annoyed look on his face was from the cold, lack of sleep, or the music itself. To her surprise, Hog seemed to be bobbing his head along to the tune as well. They wound their way up the snowy mountain road, but eventually evened out to some sort of plateau. The trees grew dense around them, but they also eventually gave way to a rather breathtaking sight.

            The lodge from the outside seemed to be frozen in time. The mixed daub and wattle structure was blanketed with a pristine layer of snow on top. The dark wood of the beams contrasted perfectly with the white around them. Even at their distance, chips of colored stained glass winked from the windows. The small lake could be seen on the other side, where ice shimmered across. It was lined with dark green pine trees, which were also caked with snow. Satya's eyes lit up at the sight of something so pristine and tranquil. She almost forgot the reason she had come in the first place.

            "It's beautiful!" she wondered aloud. Reinhardt gave a small chuckle.

            "My home is your home, my lady!" he beamed, and he seemed quite pleased with her reaction. He pulled the truck into a large garage hidden on the other side of the surprisingly huge lodge. Reinhardt told them it used to be a stable for draft horses once upon a time. They unloaded their luggage. Reinhardt had brought his hammer and shield (just in case). Jesse had brought along a few rifles, pistols, and ammunition (just in case). Jaime had brought along his grenade launcher and a case of explosives (because he wanted to), though their host advised that he not use them, for fear of triggering and avalanche. Hog unloaded his hook and chain (in case he grew bored). Satya had brought along her own photon projector, as well as the stolen prototype from Sanjay. The items were relatively useless without her gauntlet. Each only had enough of a charge for one or two blasts, and without her gauntlet, she had no way of reloading them. Still, she worried what would happen if somebody did come to Gibraltar, and stumble upon her Vishkar tech, and so she had also packed her visor. She didn't want to leave any further evidence around. 

            The snow was knee-deep, and they trudged through it reluctantly. Reinhardt seemed pleased as punch, and claimed it was good for the body. She disagreed, but kept her opinion to herself. Jaime was a pitiful sniffling mess.

            "Vhen ve get inside, I will get a fire going. How does zat sound?" the giant offered. _Yes. A fire, and tea, and a bath, and blankets, and slippers, and a nap!_ Once inside the lodge, they happily stomped their feet to rid them of snow, and to beat some form of sensation back into them.

            The lodge was equally as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside, which was wonderful, because she had absolutely no intention of stepping back out into the cold unless it was absolutely necessary. Rich wood paneling and plush rugs gave the whole lodge a sense of warmth. The design elements practically oozed masculinity and testosterone, but it was not without its charm. The painted borders along the ceilings all depicted forests and fairytale villages. The stained glass depicted the Wilhelm family crest. There was no shortage of mounted antlers, either. Reinhardt gave them all a quick tour after fiddling with the thermostat. The furnace gave a loud clunk before kicking on, and soon hot air came blasting through the vents as they passed by.

            "Jesse! I thought you might like zis room. Has a few gun racks on ze wall," Reinhardt offered. Jesse dropped his own leather rucksack on the large bed and gave a whistle.

            "Fancy digs! Thanks, big guy!" he said, and inspected a painting of deer being chased by hunting dogs. Reinhardt then proceeded to show them a room he'd selected for Hog. It was done up in dark green tones, and boasted the second largest bed in the lodge. There was a shelf full of leather-bound books, but since they were all written in German, they proved to be there more for aesthetics. Hog seemed to enjoy it none the less, and gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up. He did not, however, approve of the stuffed boar head on the wall. Reinhardt quickly apologized, forgetting about the trophy, and pulled it down so Hog wouldn't have to look at it.

            "I am sorry, my friend. My family usually hunted stag or birds. It vas careless of me," he said. Hog waved it off to reassure Reinhardt there were no hard feelings. The bed was just the right size to accommodate him, and Satya began to wonder if maybe Reinhardt actually did descend from a family of giants, given the size of everything around her. The tour continued.

            "Sym! I thought you might like this room. It has a lovely view of ze lake, and a private bathroom. It vas my grandmother's favorite room!" he beamed, and stress be damned! Her eyes lit up at the prospect of a private bathroom! The room was still rather masculine in design. The large four-poster bed had a carved headboard, but the blankets were a soft ivory, and a few needlework samplers adorned the walls. The bathroom, however, was her favorite. It was hard to say no to a genuine claw-foot tub. Jaime poked at a cuckoo clock on a wall, and tried to open the little door.

            "Sorry, friend. Zat clock hasn't worked in years, but I just can't bring myself to get rid of it. I hope to get it running again soon! I miss its chirp," Reinhardt explained. Satya wasn't too upset. She had a feeling hearing it go off every hour on the hour was something that'd be far less charming in the middle of the night. Their host showed the others where the other bathroom was, and while it was larger (the tub was about the size of a small swimming pool), Satya appreciated having a washroom of her own. She also appreciated the thought Reinhardt had put in selecting their accommodations. Having backtracked to her room, Jaime dropped his rucksack on her bed, along with the messenger bag she had sent him.

            "Woulda' killed fer a place like this back in Junkertown! Can't believe he's got a whole house just fer huntin'! Can ya' believe it? An' he's got a whole other house in another city, too! Whatta' you civilized folk do with all these extra houses a'yours?" he wondered aloud. Satya gave a small chuckle.

            "I wouldn't know myself. I always lived on Vishkar property," and then her face dropped at the realization, "At least all I left behind was furniture, clothes, and books." _I thought I'd return to it all eventually, but now I suppose I never will... at least I lost nothing of consequence._ She was never one to stockpile on things she deemed unnecessary. Very few of her belongings had ever made her feel sentimental. To her, everything she owned was just "stuff". She had acquired far more possessions she actually cared about in Gibraltar than she ever had in India. She could feel her mental damn slowly eroding the longer she thought about it. She drew her mouth up into a thin line.

            "You alright? Got awful quiet there," he prodded. She gave a small nod.

            "Yes. Forgive me. Just..." she stalled.

            "Lotta' thoughts?" he offered. For lack of better words, yes. She nodded again.

            "Not sure where ta' start?" he offered again, and she followed with yet another nod.

            "Howza' 'bout we start with somethin' ta' eat?" and she gave a final nod.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            Reinhardt and Jesse had bundled back up, and after bringing in a load of firewood, drove out to the nearest town to pick up some supplies. Jaime set to work building a fire in the hearth, while Hog scavenged the closets for extra blankets. The furnace had worked well enough, and the lodge was already growing rather cozy, but the trio still weren't particularly acclimated to their new climate. Satya curled up onto the plush sofa, and nibbled on a protein bar to hold her over until the other two returned with the means to make some sort of dinner. Jaime flicked a match, and tossed it in. The kindling slowly caught, and fire came to life.

            "There we go! A fire indoors, an' no one yellin' at me for it!" he snickered. Hog came back out with a few loose blankets in his arms, and draped a purple one over Satya. She gave him a soft "thank you", to which he gave a grunt that roughly translated to "you're welcome". Jaime heard a muffled buzz, and Satya nearly shot out of her skin.

            "Goodness! I forgot I had Jesse's phone in my pocket!" she slightly yelped as she pulled the device out. Her face softened to a smile as she looked at the screen.

            "It's a text from Hana... how sweet..." she murmured with a small smile. Jaime finally pulled the wool cap off his head, and ran his fingers through his hair, which stood on end from the static.

            "They already make it ta' LA? Christ that's fast, even fer Lena!" he commented. Satya shook her head no.

            "No. She said they stopped over on the east coast of the US for a bit of a rest. It's just her, Winston, and Lena. They'll be going back to Gibraltar after they drop her off to... to wait for the data drive to arrive,". Her voice trailed off towards the end. _She's gonna' fall ta' bits soon. She can't hold it back forever. Christ, its gonna' be ugly when it happens._.. Frankly, he was rather impressed with how calm she'd remained, given the circumstances. He could always deal with the actual physical altercations fairly well himself. It was the quiet moments, when left with his own thoughts that he tended to fall apart, which was why he always tried to bottle and shove them away as best he could. Maybe they weren't so different in that regard, though.

            "What'd Pipsqueak say?" Hog asked, distracting her from negative thoughts as he settled into a huge armchair. Jaime plopped on the other end of the sofa, and snuggled up under Satya's blanket.

            "Hey girl! Stopping in DC area for a hot minute. Lena says she needs sleep. Miss you to pieces! Love, your sister from a different mister," Satya read, and smirked at the closing. Hog huffed a bit of a chuckle.

            "Lucky brat gets ta' go somewhere warm!" he snorted. Satya gave her own little laugh, and started tacking a reply.

            "What should I say in return?" she asked, fishing for suggestions. Jaime grabbed the phone out of her hand, and quickly took a picture of him sticking his tongue out while giving her a middle finger. He tacked his own message underneath.

            "Hugs an' kisses! Love, Junkrat!" He beamed, and sent the message to their friend. He handed the phone back.

            "That should work, right?" he cackled. Satya snickered behind her hand, and tacked another reply message. He assumed it was some form of apology for his lack of manners, but he was pretty sure Pipsqueak would get a kick out of his reply. The fire crackled and popped merrily, having quickly grown in size. It was soothing, and the last of the cold finally seemed to melt out of him. She curled up along his side and stared at the hearth.

            "Mmmm... now this, I like..." she quietly muttered to herself. Her eyelids drooped, and he ran his hand along her arm in slow strokes. She nodded off rather quickly.

            "Thank Christ," he nearly whispered. Hog looked over at her.

            "She doin' alright?" Hog quietly rumbled. Jaime shrugged.

            "Yeah, I guess. She didn't sleep too good, though. Worried a bit. Think it's gonna' mess with her head fer a while," he replied, and then wished he hadn't. Hog may have been his best mate, but he wasn't sure how much to divulge. The larger Junker turned back to the fire, and watched it some more in silence.

            "Thanks, mate," he finally told Hog. His friend looked back over.

            "What for?" he asked, surprised. Jaime closed his eyes.

            "Fer doin' what I wanted t'do, but couldn't," Jaime answered. Hog shrugged his shoulders.

            "Just doin' what ya paid me for, boss," was all he said. A smirk tugged at Jaime's mouth.

            "Yeah, sure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted a nice little transitioning-drabble to bring things back to their usual levels of hilarity and fluff.


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first night in the lodge, and Jaime makes some candid observations. Jesse takes care of breakfast while Winston calls in with updates.

            "I'm sinking! I'm sinking!" Satya pitifully yelped shortly after crawling into bed. The mattress was a lot softer than either of them had expected, and she did indeed seem to be swallowed amongst the feather pillows, plush mattress, and down-filled quilts. Jaime snorted, and helped pull her up a bit.

            "Hold on! I gotcha!" he called back, as he helped her adjust. She immediately sank right back in.

            "Oh for the love of... is this how it ends? Eaten alive by a mattress?" she jokingly huffed. He liked seeing her crack jokes. It was a very good sign. Dinner was late, and really only consisted of warmed up cans of soup and bread, but it was better than nothing. With the insanity of everything around them, Reinhardt and Jesse had forgotten it was, in fact, still a holiday, and most of the shops in the small village were still closed. Their host said he'd make a return trip in the morning when the shops opened back up, and make a proper supply run. Given the circumstances, no one complained. It just felt good to eat something that was actually hot. It was hard to believe that some twenty-four hours prior, they were all dining on fine cuisine, and drinking champagne.

            "I kinda' like it! Makes m'feel like a king, all fancy an' surrounded by fluffy stuff!" Jaime beamed. The beds back in Gibraltar were comfortable enough (worlds better than what he was used to) though a bit on the firm side. He felt utterly enveloped and cushioned, and it was downright luxurious. He looked back over at Satya, who had a loose feather stuck in her hair. He reached over, and plucked it out.

            "Fluffy stuff, an' a pretty queen... who's also fluffy!" he grinned, and balanced the feather on the tip of his index finger.

            "I am not fluffy..." she begrudgingly replied. He blew the feather, and watched it float away before settling somewhere on the mattress.

            "You can still be fluffy, an' also be a badass. Lookit' me!" he said, while pointing at his hair that still stood on end from the wool cap. She gave a bit of a snicker, which settled back down as she tried to make herself more comfortable. The small stained-glass lamp on the nightstand cast colored splotches of light on the ceiling, and he stared up at it, enjoying the picture it painted.

            "Bet this is what livin' in a castle feels like," he mused.

            "You know, I always find your outlook on the civilized world to be quite refreshing," she mused in kind. He arched an eyebrow.

            "Yeah?"

            "Your delight in things that most people take for granted is charming, in its own way. Take, for example, the story you told me of the change in the fountain. You marveled at clean water spraying around merely for aesthetic purposes, and most people merely walked by it without a second thought. You have an appreciation for things that most would often ignore," Satya elaborated. Jaime's cheeks grew a little pink, much to his surprise.

            "Yeah? Well... Yer kinda' like that too, y'know. Y'like things that look just right. Take yer time t'look parts an' schematics over. I watched ya' sometimes. Ya draw an' plan, over an' over. Y'want everything perfect. Even the little things. Saw it in yer buildin'. Stuff everyone else'd ignore, overlook, or cheap out on? Y'still put thought an' heart into it. Y'always do. S'what I love about ya'..." he rambled. The words just poured out without much thought or prompting, and it wasn't until he saw the look on her face that he saw the impact that they had. She was very noticeably speechless.

            "...Jaime..." she nearly whispered. It was all she could manage to get out at first. The kiss he felt was soft and brief, but it spoke volumes. She pulled back, and looked in his eyes.

            "Thank you..." she added.

            "F'what?" he asked. All he said was the truth. He thought it was simple knowledge.

            "For just... being here. For staying. You didn't have to, but..."

            "But I said I would, remember?" he cut in, thinking back to their conversation back on the drop ship all those weeks ago. He remembered it. Christ, he could actually remember something with such detail! He could remember it, because it was important, even if he didn't realize it at the time. Satya's fingers stretched across the distance between them, and slowly laced with his.

            "I'm scared, Jaime. I don't know what's going to happen next. It’s something I’ve never experienced before. But... but I'm less scared when you're here," she admitted. It seemed like something she was rather reluctant to say.

            "What'cha got t'be scared of?" he asked. There was the obvious, of course, but there seemed to be more to it than that. She puzzled over his question.

            "The uncertainty itself," she answered, and her mouth drew up into a thin line.

            "This wasn't supposed to get this complicated," she added after a moment of silence. He scratched at his chin.

            "I know it wasn't, but you'll figure it out. 'Cause yer smart. Just like yer designs. Ya got a problem, ya design a solution. Sometimes it takes a few tries, though. But ya get it just right in the end, yeah?" he pointed out. She looked away, and rest her fingertips across her chin in thought.

            "Yes. Yes, I suppose so," she murmured mostly to herself. A small wave of determination seemed to come over her. The transition was subtle, but it was without a doubt the most beautiful thing he'd ever witnessed. He couldn't believe he'd actually been mad at her less than twenty-four hours ago. A yawn overtook him unexpectedly. 

            "Ain't nothin' that can be done right now though, so might as well sleep, right?" he countered. A knowing smile came across her face.

            "Yes. Yes, I suppose so," she repeated.

            They settled down shortly after, and (after mastering the ability to move across their giant cloud-pile of a bed) they curled up together. Their sleep after the incident had been virtually nonexistent. Her nap on the couch had been short, and seemed to be the product of pure exhaustion. Even then, she had flinched a few times, and mumbled in her sleep. He hoped this time around, she'd actually get some rest. It still took a little while for her mind to settle. He could hear her deliberately timing and spacing her breaths, and it seemed to work. Eventually, she drifted off, and he figured he could at least follow his own advice and try to do the same. His mind, however, still needed to decompress.

            At the gala, he had begun to realize how far he'd come. He had left Junkertown for good. The fear of somehow being dragged back was no longer present. He really did have a new life, and, for better or worse, so did she. There were still loose ends to tie up of course, but he realized she was finally free from Vishkar, too. The thought that they could no longer wind her up, or drag her back down brought a smile to his face. He hadn't lied to her on the dropship. The worst really was over. For the first time in a long time, he finally managed to rest easy.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            _Pancakes?_ The scent wafted into their room, and it woke him up. He could make out the sounds of somebody mucking about in the kitchen, and he was pretty sure he knew who it was. There wasn't a functioning clock in the room. Jesse had taken his phone back the night before, and with no form of internet connection, Satya had left her tablet off for the evening. She was still sleeping, or at least, he assumed she was. All he could see was a bunched-up nest amidst the plush quilt and pillows, and a few locks of her dark hair peeking out from underneath. He stifled a chuckle, and quietly crawled out of bed.

            The soft mattress may have seemed luxurious at the time, but he was slowly learning why people preferred something with a little more support. His back, shoulders, and hips popped and snapped so loud that he was certain he had woken her up. She shifted a little, and grumbled in her sleep.

            "S..stop throw'n eggssss..." she incoherently ordered. He bit the side of his cheek to keep himself from straight-up cackling. Jaime quietly readied himself by popping on his sweats (a Christmas gift from Angela), and a t-shirt to match. It was a novelty to be fully awake before her, and he wanted to enjoy it for once. He shut the door as noiselessly as he could, and head down the stairs into the kitchen.

            "Well, didn't expect you to be the first of you two up!" Jesse commented as he flipped a pancake with a spatula. It sizzled a touch as it made contact with the hot pan. Jaime rubbed his eyes, and they came back into focus. Hog was seated at a heavy butcher block table with a large stack in front of him, and a side of... bacon? Jaime did a double-take.

            "Turkey bacon..." he reassured after noticing the confused look on Jaime's face.

            "So, not real bacon at all..." Jesse quipped. Hog gave him a snort in warning before turning to his mug of coffee. Jaime trudged over to the percolator on the stove, and poured himself a mug. The clock on the wall read that it was a quarter to eleven, and he wasn't surprised that they'd slept in so late. A familiar buzz emanated from Jesse's pocket. He flipped the contents from the pan onto a plate, and slid it towards Jaime before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. His eyes flicked over the screen before smirking.

            "I tell ya'... that has to be the eighth text Hana sent me this morning! Going to have to have Sym give her a call the second she wakes up or else that girl might actually explode!" Jesse chuckled mostly to himself. Jaime cut into his pancake as he made his way over to the table. Jesse had mixed in coconut flakes as well as chocolate chips.

            "Fancy! Thanks, mate!" he beamed, and dug in. Jesse tucked the phone back in his pocket, and a heavy wood door opened towards the back. Reinhardt came stomping in with a load of firewood. He popped the logs on the rack next to the hearth.

            "Ah! You are finally awake! But I do not see your sweet lady! Is she still asleep?" Reinhardt nearly bellowed. Jaime kept his grimace internalized. _Well, if she weren't awake b'fore, she is now!_

            "Yeah. Thought she might need a lil' extra, y'know?" he answered back. Jesse tossed a few sausage links into the pan. The aroma was intoxicating.

            "Yes, I agree on zat one. A hard-fought battle is best followed by a good night of sleep!" the older man clucked. He made it sound like some jousting tournament, or some duel over a lady's honor, but the truth was he'd nearly choked a man to death for trying to murder Satya, and Hog and Hana as well. There was nothing noble about it. At least, it didn't make him feel noble or honorable. It still wasn't a wrong decision, though, and if he had to do it over again, he wouldn't have done a single thing differently. Well... maybe he would have been the one to toss Sanjay off of the building. Hell, he would have just knocked him the fuck out at the party in front of everyone! His lip curled into an involuntary sneer at the thought of the man, and the memory of the things he'd done to her. He felt a nudge under the table.

            "Don't get riled..." Hog quietly warned under his breath. _Yeah. Yeah. Fight's over. Fucker is dead, an' that's all that matters!_ Jaime tucked back into his lone pancake in hopes that eating something would calm him. He hadn't anticipated something like that could make his blood boil so quickly.

            "See ya' made it inta' town already... Christ, what time did ya' get up?" he noted between bites.

            "I vake at sunrise, my friend! Greet ze day early, for you never know if it's your last!" Reinhardt grinned, and Jaime suppressed an eye roll. Jesse seemed a little less enthused.

            "Don't know why you had to drag ME along, though..." the cowboy jokingly grumbled. Reinhardt gave him a friendly pat on the back, though it sounded a lot heavier and quite possibly painful. A small grunting cough forced its way out of Jesse, though their host hardly seemed to notice.

            "I like to greet ze day early, but zat doesn't mean I don't enjoy company to greet it vith me!" the giant added.

            "Please tell me there's tea..." came Satya's voice quietly drifting in. Her eyes were barely open. She trudged into the kitchen. Jesse gave a chuckle.

            "I'll put a kettle on. Take a seat, little lady!" he instructed. Hog pulled a chair out for her, and she plopped down next to Jaime with a small "thank you". Jesse came over, and nudged the sausage links onto Jaime's plate. He handed his phone to her.

            "Call Hana before she loses her mind!" he joked. Satya flicked through the multiple texts, and gave a snort. Jaime looked over her shoulder.

            - **Girl, Winston will not stop snoring! Send help! Lol**

**-OMG! Lena snores too! Kill me now!**

**-made it to LA, but Lucio's flight doesn't land until morning. I hate checking in by myself!**

**-this room is fucking tits! Guess who gets a king sized bed to herself!**

**-wow, now I just feel lonely. :/ send me a dude! One with nice thighs! ;) oh! And a puppy!**

**-not trying to make you jealous, but check out this bathtub!** (A picture of a rather large whirlpool tub popped up as she scrolled some more)

            **-Room service rules!** (A picture of her favorite nacho chips and a large bottle of soda sat on an elegant silver serving tray)

            **-I miss you, and I hope you're doing ok <3**

Satya let out a long breath after the last message, and a sad smile tugged at her face. She started tacking a reply.

            **-Doing well. Just woke up. Jesse's making breakfast... I hate snow.** The second part she added as an afterthought, and Jaime snorted.

            "Don't tell Reinhardt that..." he whispered under his breath. The phone gave a bit of a chirp after she sent it, and Satya looked up at Jesse with a bit of shock.

            "It's Winston! I'm going to put him on speaker so we all can hear..." she announced, and everyone slowly gathered closer to the phone as she answered.

            "Jesse? I need to speak..." Winston started, though Satya interrupted him.

            "I'm here. We have you on speaker." Winston cleared his throat.

            "Alright. I understand you don't have access to internet connection. Do you have a television?" he asked. There was a bit of static. Even their phone connection was persnickety at best.

            "No. Sorry, my friend. This lodge is to be a retreat from ze modern vorld. A chance to unplug!" Reinhardt interjected.

            "I thought as much when you said it was a hunting lodge. It's probably for the best, to be honest. Less means for people to search for you. I'm not trying to cause worry, though. I mainly just wanted to keep you updated. We made it back to Gibraltar, and have received the package. I am having Athena decrypt the files as we speak, and will let you know what I find. I'm feeling confident so far, though. I've been scanning the news, and right now things are seeming to calm down a bit. They're no longer considering Satya a suspect or perpetrator, though they still have her reported as missing," Winston started. It wasn't good news per se, but it was nice to know she was no longer being actively pursued as a possible criminal. Satya let out a long breath.

            "Are there any other developments I should be aware of?" she asked. It sounded like Winston was clicking at his computer a bit.

            "Not so much, but in a way, that's a good thing. I think the Vishkar board was implicated in so much with the email leaks alone that investigators will be tied up for a while before they can delve further into their books for anything else. There hasn't been a single sign that they know about our funding, so that's good. That buys us a little time," he explained. Everyone seemed to relax around the table just a touch.

            "Good. I am... I am sorry I caused this issue in the first place," Satya replied. Winston grew silent for a moment.

            "I know... I know you didn't mean to, but for what it's worth, you were not the catalyst to these events. At the end of the day, somebody else leaked this emails. We all, unfortunately, just got caught up in the crossfire... Getting back to it... I actually know one of the head investigators. She's always been a person that Overwatch could trust... I think I may try reaching out to her. It will depend on what I end up finding in the encrypted files, though." Winston came to a pause. Satya gave a nod to herself.

            "Thank you, Winston, for keeping us informed," she added in.

            "I need to go. The files are nearly finished decrypting and unlocking. I'll keep you filled in. In the meantime, I ask that you personally don't leave the lodge, or its grounds. Is that understood? Junkrat? Roadhog? The same applies to you two as well," he instructed. Jaime was annoyed at first, until he remembered how miserably cold it was outside, and how there was very little that would pique his interest anyways.

            "Yes. Of course. We will not leave these walls," she answered on all three of their behalves. Winston seemed appeased, said his goodbyes, and ended the call. It was a much-needed wave of relief for the group, but particularly for Satya.

            "That... that is a bit of a relief. For now, at least," she nearly whispered. Reinhardt and Jesse retreated from the table.

            "Water's just about ready. Hope you don't mind just plain black tea," Jesse said, while pulling down another mug. Jaime eyed the look of ease finally starting to tug at her.

            "Yes. Yes, that would be just fine," she replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another smaller chapter as I adjust. Planning to make the next one a bit more substantial.


	52. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satya has an unexpected conversation with Hog, and later, indulges in a bath. She also discovers that baths can be entertaining when you have the right company with you.

            Much to Satya's surprise, Jaime bundled up after dinner and joined Jesse and Reinhardt in the former-stable to enjoy a few beers, and to also help bring in the last of the supplies. She had a sneaking suspicion, however, that is was mostly due to the fact that he found jigsaw puzzles to be a complete and utter bore. She and Hog had taken a crack at a rather complex puzzle, though she had pieced together a large portion of it rather quickly before he gave a snort in defeat, and left her to it. He then settled into his new-found favorite chair to finish reading a romance novel (The Captain's Siren). Just as he was finishing up the last page, she placed the last few pieces into the puzzle, completing the picture of two bears fighting.

            "There. One puzzle down, fifteen more to go," she sighed. She wasn't one to waste her time around a television or computer screen (with the exception of the occasional digital read), but then, she usually had work to keep her distracted. Going from sixteen-hour days to suddenly being without work was proving to be a difficult thing to transition to. While she appreciated no longer feeling miserably run-down from office life, in all actuality she had no idea WHAT to do. She couldn't exactly exercise. There were no building projects she could entertain, and with only one arm, she once again began to feel useless.

            "Good endin'... ya wanna borrow it? 'Z 'bout mermaids an' pirates," Hog offered while holding his book out to her. Satya shrugged, and accepted the offer.

            "A book would be nice. Thank you," she said. She supposed she could also read the book Winston had sent to her in the care package. She wondered if Hog would have any interest in reading about theoretical physics, or if his literary tastes were more narrow.

            "Page one-oh-four has a good bit," he nonchalantly suggested. Satya couldn't suppress her smirk. _Well... certainly have THAT to look forward to!_ Hog got up, and threw another log on the fire.

            "Y'seem t'be doin' alright," he noted after settling back in. Satya curled her fingers around the spine of the book in her hand.

            "Oh, um, yes. The phone call from Winston did seem to relieve some of the stress. At least... at least I am not being viewed as a potential criminal," she murmured. _I can't believe this is my life._ Hog let out a deep rumble that almost sounded like a laugh.

            "You were s'pose ta be a good influence on Jaime. Not th'other way 'round!" he chuckled. Satya forced a small laugh, and she knew Hog could tell it was false.

            "Sorry... I just... There's much to still process... It still hasn't even fully settled in just yet, if that makes sense," she said. _Why am I saying this to him?! This... I can't do this. I can't lay my problems on yet another person._

            "It wasn't Jaime, y'know. Weren't him that killed that fuck. Thought ya'd wanna' know. He listened to ya. It was me. Don't go bein' mad at 'im, alright?" Satya's head snapped up in shock. It took a moment for her to process his words.

            "What?" she asked, confused. She hadn't expected him to bring up the incident, let alone admit something like that to her.

            "I told ya' b'fore. He wants to do right by ya. Knew it'd hurt ya if he didn't listen. But Satya... couldn't let 'im live. Y'know that, right? You got a good heart, but that fucker didn't. He woulda' found a way. Woulda' come back t'hurt ya," Hog added. The words hung in the air, and she found responding a temporary impossibility. When Jaime admitted on the dropship that Sanjay was dead, deep down, she knew it hadn’t been him. He never directly said _how_ Sanjay had died, which spoke volumes on its own. He would have told her later, or owned up to it right from the get-go. In the end, he was indirectly covering for his friend.

            "It's... I... I know. I know Sanjay left you little choice. Thank you for being there. It's just... Sanjay used to be a person I trusted. His betrayal hurts much more than I thought it would," she admitted. Hog was never one to gossip or spread rumors, and so she felt surprisingly comfortable in confiding in him. Or, as close to comfortable as it was ever likely to get.

            "Never had anyone betray yer trust b'fore?" Hog ventured. She shook her head no.

            "Not in that manner, I suppose," she responded. Hog contemplated her words.

            "Pretty common in Junkertown. Get kinda' used to it... but it makes ya' feel less like a person each time it happens... Don't let this ruin ya. Some people take advantage a good people like ya. Don't let it turn ya inta' one a them," he added. Satya searched for anything to respond with, but was at a complete loss. 

            "And thank you... yer the first person ta hold us t’the same standards as everyone else. You were th’first t'think we can be better people..." Hog added. He took in a deep inhale, and tried to hide the small wheeze that eked out of him. The door opened, bringing their conversation to an abrupt halt.

            "F-fuck this cold bullshit!" Jaime stuttered through clenched teeth as he knocked snow off his boot and peg. He kicked the boot off, and plopped a bag full of groceries onto the table. He rummaged around the paper bag.

            "Reinhardt got ya a little somethin' love, but forgot ‘bout it in th’truck. Here!" he announced. Thankful for a break in the serious conversation (it was yet another thing to add to the pile of things for her brain to ponder), Satya raised an eyebrow and turned from her cozy spot. Jaime was holding up a plastic jug of something. She reached over the back of the sofa, and snatched the bottle from him. The label was in German, but she could tell from the packaging that it was soap-solution for bubble baths. It didn't appear to be high-quality, but it was a sweet gesture, and Reinhardt's thoughtfulness warmed her heart. The bottle had a picture of a rose on it, and she uncapped it to take a sniff. _Roses indeed._

            "How lovely! I think I may put this to use right now!" she said. Her mind and heart weighed heavy. A bath would do wonders. She gave Hog a soft smile, and Jaime a peck on the cheek before heading to the private bathroom. 

            It took a while for the water to warm up. The old water heater was outdated, and seemed to be on its last leg, but she was able to fill the tub, and the suds built up rather quickly. She stepped in, letting the warmth and perfumed bubbles envelop her. Steam fogged up the bathroom window, though it didn't really matter much. The sun had set shortly before dinner as it was, and with no lighting outside, the window was nothing more than a panel of pitch-black nothingness. Still, the room was quiet, and warm. The steam made her think of a hot and humid summer day. The scent of roses took her back. She leaned against the high back of the tub, and closed her eyes. An overwhelming sense of nostalgia overtook her, though she couldn't quite place why. She suddenly had a longing to visit her old home. _No... no not Utopaea. Somewhere older... no. I can't go back to Hyderabad. This longing... There is nothing left to go back to... and no one I wish to see._

Blanketed in froth and foam, she ran her hand over her shoulder where her gauntlet used to connect. Her heart ached. _And now what am I to do?_ She supposed she could try to recreate the gauntlet. She had, in secret, entertained the idea in the past, but fear of Vishkar's legal retribution had always quashed the desire. The company had always kept a tight grip on their patents and designs, and their legal team had always been a rather formidable force. Their contracts were airtight, and not a single case was ever given leniency. If she had entertained creating her own hardlight tools, and then were to quit? Well, prosecution would have been inevitable. She'd seen it happen before when former employees leaked designs, or competitors attempted to steal schematics altogether. Lúcio had been the odd exception, of course, which was why he was so despised amongst the company. He had cultivated a surprisingly effective barrier from them with his celebrity-turned-freedom-fighter lifestyle, but for the vast majority, legal battles never ended well.

            But, with Vishkar being plunged into its own legal chaos, would they even notice or care? The company didn't even know if she was alive, or, if they did, they didn't seem to care about that, either. While Overwatch had lost its funding source, there was the unexpected silver lining that she was essentially free from their grip. There was joy in that, but the joy also brought guilt. Were it not for Vishkar, she would have been nothing; just another child on the streets, growing into an adult who lived in squalor. Perhaps she would have gone into the same trade as her mother, but more likely, she wouldn’t have even survived that long. She shuddered at the thought. _Enough of that. I cannot let them continue to prey upon my sense of duty. What is done is done. When I can come out of hiding, I will contact Torbörn, retrieve the gauntlet from him, and see if I can recreate it. At the very least, I can hopefully craft a functioning appendage again._

            There was a renewed sense of determination that washed over her. She had the ability, the intelligence, and finally the sense of fearlessness she’d always seemed to lack in regards to her now-former employer. She had fought so hard just to stay alive. She would continue to fight to reclaim her own life, and that included her hardlight abilities. _No one can create like I can. Hardlight is a waste on the likes of them. They do not deserve it!_ _They can't take anything away from me now. I am free, and I will take back what is mine!_ A knock sounded on the door, once again shaking her heavy thoughts.

            "Yes?" she awkwardly called, sitting up a little straighter.

            "You... um... you doin' okay?" came Jaime's voice, equally as awkward. Satya relaxed a touch, and leaned back against the tub.

            "Yes, I'm fine," she replied, not really sure why he was at the door. Did he know what sort of intense thoughts were crossing through her mind when she abruptly left the warmth of the fireplace?

            "Oh! Uh... was wonderin'... wonderin' if you wanted some comp'ny..." he quietly admitted. She could barely make his words out through the heavy door. _Oh... oh sweetheart, it really has been a long time!_ If he was willing to join her in the tub... Satya was torn for just a moment. So very much had happened, and she was only just beginning to piece it all together. Would her mind allow her to relax? Would she even be able to enjoy it? Or would it all be awkward, difficult, and frustrating as her brain refused to quiet down? _Well... he is rather skilled in helping me unwind... and he is no doubt fit to burst, in a manner of speaking, and it has been far too long..._

            "I wouldn't mind some..." she answered, keeping her voice low. The door creaked open, and to her utter amazement, she found she was actually feeling rather shy. _Why now? We've seen each other naked countless times. We've... oh this is silly!_ She suppressed the urge to dive underneath the bubbles entirely, though she did sink a little bit down. Jaime stepped in, and she was once again surprised. There was no mistaking the blush on his cheeks. He felt nervous, too. There was something oddly adorable about his atypical shyness.

            "Steamy!" he piped as he shut the door behind him.

            "Yes. The steam is good for the skin, and the heat is good for drawing out tension," she explained. _Oh, now why did I say that? He must think me strange._ The irony of Jamison "Junkrat" Fawkes possibly finding her strange was temporarily lost on her.

            "Oh... smells nice'" he started, and when she couldn’t think of a tactful reply, he steeled himself.

            "There room in there fer one more?" he finally asked. It seemed to Satya that the day really was full of shock and surprises. _Dear gods, yes!_ Her heart leapt to her throat, but she remained as close to calm as she could muster. 

            "Of course," she replied, her voice sounding (relatively) collected. Jaime pulled his shirt over his head, and tugged his sweats down in record time. As he neared the edge of the tub, he pulled off his arm and peg leg, and sat them on the dark granite counter nearby. Satya scooched forward, leaving room for him to climb in behind her, which he did. He hissed at the heat for only a moment (Satya's preferred bath temperature was somewhere between comfortable and boiling), but slowly acclimated as he lowered himself down. Fully seated, he leaned back, and she nestled in between his legs in the same manner as she did in the hospital bed several months ago. She felt a hard prodding against her lower back. _Soon. I promise you_. She internalized the smirk wanting to spread across her face. 

            "Well... s'pose this bath thing ain't so bad," he commented. Satya chuckled.

            "It has always been my go-to for calming myself, and stress release," she replied. There was a devious curl forming at the edge of Jaime's mouth. He wrapped his good arm up around her, with his forearm pushed up against the underside of her breasts. Her skin tingled in response. Sleeping curled up together had done wonders in and of itself. His mere presence alone always seemed to still her mind. In a sea of chaos, she found the perfect way to neutralize it was to surround herself with the human-embodiment of the very same force. He let out a slight groan in response, further proving the purpose of the relaxing soak.

            "Feels nice. Like th'bed. Makes me feel like a king," he admitted, and popped his foot up across the lip of the tub. Satya tilted her head back, and rest against his shoulder. She grabbed the washcloth off the side of the tub, and ran it across her neck and collarbone before pecking his chin.

            "I will not lie. I am quite surprised to be sharing my bath tonight," she said. He ran his hand along the side of her ribs and stomach. A tremor of excitement lanced up her spine.

            "Only had two other baths b'fore. Well... may've had 'em when I was a kid, before th'Omnium blew. Don't remember mucha' that, t'be honest," he said, and seemed to bite back his words. It appeared that he too was trying not to dwell on old memories.

            "Only two?" she asked, genuinely curious. Without thought, she lathered up the bar of soap in the washcloth, and ran it along his forearm. He didn't seem to mind. He actually seemed too lost in thought to take notice.

            "Yeah. Couple times, me an' Hog managed t'scrape up enough cash t'stay in actual hotels when we got outta' Australia, right? That was b'fore people knew we were trouble, so we could get away with it. But yeah. Stayed in a couple nice places. Real fancy. Felt weird, though. Felt weird t'have enough clean water t'just sit in. First time I did it, ended up leavin' so much dirt in the tub, nearly turned the damn thing black! Hog weren't too happy. Told me I needed t'shower first t'get the grime off b'fore a proper soak," he rambled. Satya shook her head while she laughed. The whole story was ridiculous, though she had no doubt in her mind that his tale was completely true. She was suddenly thankful he was relatively clean coming in; else she would have turned him down for the very same reason that Hog had lectured him for.

            "I like this, though. Yer all wet an' slippery. Fun to try'n grab ya!" he snickered, and an impish grin spread across his face. She could feel him try to grab one of her breasts, but his hand slid right off from the suds. He then tried to grab her hip, but once again his hand slid off in the effort. A ticklish giggle escaped her, and she leaned forward. He squeezed at her backside.

            "Oo-hoo-hoo! Ain't got big enough hands t'grab all'a that!" he joked.

            "Careful, now. Those are dangerous words you’re uttering..." she warned, though she was still smiling. He gave another squeeze.

            "Nonono! Think ya' missed what I was gettin' at... I love all'a... all of it! Christ, wish I still had m'other hand just so I could grab at ya' even more!" he grinned, and planted a kiss on her cheek while giving her yet another squeeze. She brought her own hand up, and stroked along the side of his face.

            "Well, I have to say... I thought I loved baths before. I never thought sharing them with a partner could be so enjoyable! I always thought of them as a source for cleansing and tension-release, not entertainment," she mused. It was then that his hand moved, slowly sliding around her hip, and came at a stop between her thighs. Her breath caught for just a moment.

            "Tension-release, she says... I think I can manage that," he said, his voice dropping low and husky before brushing kisses along her shoulder and neck. Her pulse quickened in response.

            "Jaime..." she whispered as his hand moved a little higher between her thighs. He ran his thumb through the neatly-trimmed thatch of black hair before lightly grazing along her separation. She slightly hissed in pleasure, and the world melted away.

            "Ain't tryin' t'rush ya', love, but Christ it's been too long. I need ya'. Need ta' feel ya'. Need t'be inside ya'," he murmured as he buried his face in her damp hair. She didn't answer, because she once again found herself at a loss for words, so she simply parted her legs a little more. It seemed to be answer enough for him. He circled his thumb over her tight knot, and she choked back a gasp of surprise at the intensity that had already built within her.

            "Be-bedroom..." she managed to stammer. He pulled his thumb away, much to her dismay.

            "Wot?" he asked, confused.

            "Not here. In the bedroom!" she said, trying to keep her voice low. She wasn't sure just how much anyone could hear, or if their voices echoed. Jaime let out a chuckle.

            "So soon? But I just got in!" he said, adding a knowing lilt to his voice. He squeezed her thigh, and grazed his teeth in teasing nibbles across her neck. 

            "Didn't wanna' rush ya', but that don’t mean I wanna’ rush this either. Want ya' proper worked up for it. More fun that way," he added. She reached up with her own hand, and ran her fingers through his hair. She tugged him down, locking him in a deep kiss as once again his thumb and fingers began to probe. She couldn't stop the breathy moan from escaping her as he dipped a finger inside.

            Satya ran her hand behind her, while turning a bit in his hold. Her hand slid lower, down the hard muscle of his chest and abdomen, and then through his own thatch of blonde hair, before delicately settling around his cock. She could feel a pulse of excitement across her palm.

            "C-careful there, love. Tryin' t'hold back, but it's hard..."

            "I'll say!" she interrupted, feeling playful herself. Jaime gave a snort of laughter.

            "I mean... just... Christ, just look at ya'!" he beamed, which he then followed with a growl. Between the heat of the water, the perfume from the bubbles, and the pleasure coursing through her body, the room was practically spinning around her. His hand went back between her legs, and she gave him a few soft strokes with her own palm. He let out a delighted groan. _Two can play at this game!_  

            And so, with only one hand to each of them, they stroked, squeezed, massaged, and explored. Kisses were deep and searching. Their tongues met, and repeatedly entwined. Their breaths became more labored from pleasure and excitement. Her hips would buck out of pure want and instinct. After what felt like an eternity of teasing that border lined torment, he pulled his hand away, and gave a breathless chuckle.

            "Alright. Howz'bout we pull that plug now, yeah?" he grinned. She nodded, but was almost reluctant to pull away from his touch. The water began to drain. She stood up, and wrung the excess liquid from her hair before turning to regard him. She almost wished she hadn't, or at least, had better prepared herself for the sight of him. He had pulled himself up, and was seated along the edge of the tub. Water slid down the length of his body, and she watched the streams and droplets course their way down the length of him.

            "Starin' awful hard there, love!" he teased. She grabbed a couple towels down from the shelf above the sink, and handed him one.

            "What can I say? I like what I see!" she teased right back before quickly drying her hair, and patting her body down. She didn't have time for attention to detail! The fact was, there was a naked man who knew how to find a g-spot, and she wasn't going to waste energy on silly things like thoroughly drying herself! Not when she was going to get wet all over again with sweat. Perhaps it was her baser animal instinct, but some things actually seemed to take precedence over her compulsions, and sex (as she was delighted to discover) was one of them. Jaime seemed to have the same sense of urgency, and quickly ran the towel over himself before hopping over through the doorway into their connected bedroom. She practically tripped on her way over to the bed.

            He had the sheets and blankets pulled back, and tugged her down on top of him. He ran his fingers through her hair, and gently pulled her down into a kiss. In a blink, he rolled her onto her back, and nudged her legs apart with his thigh. He nestled in quite nicely, and braced himself with his elbows. Her heart was racing as he looked down into her eyes.

            "We ain't ever waitin' this long again!" he quietly ordered. She shook her head in emphatic agreement. She reached up, once again entwining her fingers in his hair. He dropped down, placing kisses along her neck and jaw. Satya let out a small moan as a familiar sensation prodded along her inner thigh, and hesitated just a moment.

            He slid in, and gods, it was just like their first time all over again! The sense of being completely filled was nearly too much, and she once again agreed with him. She never wanted to wait that long for that feeling ever again! Gone was the worry and stress of the outside world There was only Satya, Jaime, the bed beneath them, and the lamplight above them.

            His thrusts were slow and controlled at first. He hissed with each stroke. She moaned, and arched her back in response. He sucked along her neck and shoulders. When he started to roll his hips in tandem with hers, she bit down on his own shoulder in excitement. It was almost too much... almost. Despite feeling so fulfilled, she still found herself aching for more. His strokes grew quicker with urgency. She could feel his hand sliding up her side, cupping and massaging her breast as he nipped her collarbone.

            "J-Jaime..." she softly cried. He didn't say anything, but he knew exactly what she was wanting. He rolled his hips even further, grinding up against her. _So close! Gods, I'm so close!_

            "Satya... I can't hold on much longer..." he breathed against her neck. She could feel the shuddering sensation building within her. She leaned forward, brushing her lips against his ear.

            "Then let go," she whispered, and nipped at his earlobe. It was just what they needed to send them both over the edge. She felt the tightening spasm course through her. Everything clenched so sweetly as a familiar warmth and wetness filled her within. She softly cried out as her climax washed over her.

            "Fucking Christ, Satya!" he growled as he emptied himself within her. His breath came out in ragged gasps. She could feel a trickle run down her inner thigh. He slowly withdrew, and stared down. There was something about the look in his eyes that triggered a sudden wave of emotion. Here was a man that stood by her through everything, a man whom she could always trust, a man who never failed to bring her pleasure. It was unexpected, but she didn't try to stop the words from leaving her mouth.

            "I love you, Jaime," she murmured as she reached up, and stroked along the side of his cheek. He turned his head, and kissed the inside of her wrist, before cupping the side of her face. He brushed his thumb along her cheekbone.

            "I love ya', Satya," he murmured back, and kissed her forehead. He slowly settled back down next to her, and rolled her towards him. He ran his hand along the length of her back as she ran hers along his shoulder and chest. 

            "Feels nice," he softly purred before drifting off. While her pulse and breath slowed back down, she decided to enjoy the quiet afterglow to herself.

            _I love you, Jaime. I pray that the day never comes, but know that I would fight for you as you have fought for me._ She gave him a soft kiss, even though she knew he would only feel it in his dreams.

            "You deserve happiness," she whispered, before finally drifting off to sleep.


	53. Chapter 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime reluctantly gets ready for snow-removal duties, Jesse is on an absolute roll, and Satya has another conversation with Winston.

            The snow silently fell outside the bedroom window. It was calming. Serene. Beautiful. Jaime groaned at the sight of it. Reinhardt mentioned that he'd probably have to come help shovel, and he wasn't looking forward to it. He'd much prefer to stay in bed, hunkered underneath the blankets with Satya. He heard the rustle coming from the bunched-up blanket nest, and slowly a gap opened. Satya peeked out, saw the snow falling, and let out a similar groan before sealing herself back within her den of warmth and comfort.

            "Don't s'pose I can convince ya' t'take my place with snow removal duties?" he ventured.

            "I don't believe that's possible. I only have the one arm," she groggily reminded him. He gave a snort.

            "Lucky! You got an excuse!" he jokingly snipped.

            "Tea, please," was her response. Jaime plopped his head back down into his pillow for only a moment. The night before had been wholly amazing, and while he was rather reluctant to bring it to an end, it was only a matter of time before somebody would try to wake him to come help. He sat up, and stretched his arms with a jaw-cracking yawn in tow. 

            "I'll get the kettle goin' for ya," he replied. He pulled on his prosthetics, a pair of jeans, and the jumper from Zarya before heading down the stairs. Just as it had been the day before, Jesse stood by the stove, working on breakfast. The clock read that it was almost nine. _I slept for... eleven hours?! Christ! Think that's th'most I ever got!_ Weather annoyances aside, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so good.

            "Looks like somebody took the time to stop and smell the roses," Jesse quipped, and cracked a couple eggs into a hot pan. Jaime didn't quite understand the smirk on his face, or what he meant by the comment. He scratched his head in confusion, and grabbed the nearby kettle to fill. Reinhardt came down the stairs from the upper level, and seemed pleased as punch at the sight of the falling snow.

            "Haha! If only I still had my childhood sled! That hill vould be perfect for coasting!" he beamed as he walked past the stove towards the kitchen window. He stopped, and took in a deep inhale. He seemed to catch a scent that confused him, and looked back over his shoulder at Jaime, who was busy lighting the burner for the kettle.

            "Is our fair Sym down here? I can smell ze perfume, but vere is the lady?" Reinhardt asked, slightly puzzled. Jesse gave a snort, but said nothing. Hog nearly choked on his tea, while Jaime's eye twitched after realizing he was, indeed, floral-scented. Reinhardt seemed to come to a realization, and gave an awkward smile.

            "My friend... zere is no shame in it," he said with a chuckle. Jaime nearly buried his face in his palm. _Oh my god..._

            "I didn't know you liked bubble soaks as vell! I may return to town later today or tomorrow. I vill buy you some soap vith a more masculine scent!" Reinhardt cheerfully offered. Jaime actually did bury his face in his palm after that one. _Oh my fucking god..._

            "Don't worry 'bout it, mate," he replied. Jesse's shoulders heaved up and down with his silent laugh while he shook his head in disbelief. Reinhardt shrugged, said it wouldn't be an issue, and stepped out into the den to start a fire in the hearth. When Jaime finally looked up, Jessie was holding out a plate of eggs, a few sausage links, and a side of snarky sass. Jaime finally understood his comment from only a few moments ago.

            "Headboards are pretty loud bangin’ against shared walls, partner." Jesse quipped, causing Jaime to grimace. It wasn't that he gave a shit that Jesse heard, but eventually Satya would figure out that there was no anonymity to hide behind in the much more personal quarters of the lodge.

            "You say a fuckin' word t'her..." he started, but was interrupted by Jesse's chuckle.

            "Rat, ease up there. I was just messin' with ya’," he started while readying the pan for more food, "You know I won't say nothin' to her. Besides, I think you two are awful sweet together." _Oh for the love a..._ Jesse went back to cooking, while Jaime took a seat next to his friend.

            “She seemed to enjoy herself,” he sassed, and before Jaime could think of something clever to shut Jesse up, Hog cut in with an annoyed huff.

            “Christ! Don’t get me started. Good thing he usually stays in her room! Th’sounds those two make… Bloke’s gotta’ sleep y’know!” Jaime merely rolled his eyes.

            “Fuckin’ deal with it, mate,” he instructed with a smirk.

            "How long you two lovebirds been an item, anyways?" Jessie nonchalantly asked, breaking the tension while changing the subject. Though Jaime was annoyed, the question gave him pause for thought. How long had it actually been? He'd lost track of time, and frankly he had no clue what was the official starting-point for them. Everything that had gone on between them seemed to evolve so organically. He supposed the incident with the squeaker was a pretty big turning point between them, but so did the whole girl's night ridiculousness. His stint in the med bay after Dorado had been a rather defining moment as well. _Christ, I dunno' what the'fuck I'm doin'! Am I s'pose ta know this shit?_  He could study the details of her face, and the way her mind worked for days, but minor details like starting dates always seemed to slip through the cracks. 

            "Don't really pay much attention t'calendars," he ended up grunting. Hog got up, poured a coffee from the percolator, and handed it to Jaime. His fingers curled around his mug, absorbing the warmth. He decided to add in a little cream, and a lot of sugar.

            "Been a while. You two seem to click pretty well. Just surprised is all," Jesse added. Jaime gave the coffee a quick stir, took a sip, and tried to shrug off the cowboy's comments. It wasn't particularly the sort of conversation he wanted to get into. He gave Jesse an ambiguous "mm-hm" in response.

            "You two've been through a lot, too… You ever think 'bout gettin' hitched?" he bluntly asked. Jaime quickly discovered that piping hot coffee sure was a painful beverage to choke on.

            "F-whuh-hnggh!" he sputtered in pain, surprise, and confusion. He coughed as best he could to hopefully regain the use of his vocal cords.

            "I'll take that as a no..." Jesse replied with a heavy drawl. Hog leaned over, and gave Jaime a hard thump on his back to help clear his pipes and lungs. Reinhardt had come back to the kitchen, but had thankfully not heard Jesse's question.

            "Oh, don't think I can't tell a fake cough from a real one! No skipping out! You vill have to help me shovel, vhether you like it, or not!" he insisted. Jesse couldn't contain himself.

            "Yeah, Rat! Nice excuse!" Jesse winked. Jaime's mind was spinning for only a moment. _That's it! I'm gonna' fuckin’ kill 'im. He's left me no choice!_

            "In ze meantime, have you put ze kettle on? No doubt ze lovely Sym vould like some tea," Reinhardt instructed. Jaime simply thumbed at the kettle already on the stove.

            "Ah! Good! It is nice playing host to a lady again. Makes me think of old times..." Reinhardt started, though his usual boisterous tone softened at the end. Jaime raised an eyebrow, but simply returned to his coffee.

            "Old times?" Jesse piped up. Reinhardt stared out the window for a moment.

            "Oh yes. I used to invite some of the other team members up here for different holidays. Sometimes, it vould be myself, Torbörn, and Jack. Gabriel, too, if he vas able. A few times, even Ana came along, and on one very nice occasion, she even brought Fareeha! How sweet that was…" Reinhardt explained, drifting back to old memories. A sad smile seemed to touch both his and Jesse's faces for a moment.

            "Can't believe you actually got Mama Bear to take a break for once, and enjoy herself. Say, by the way... you two didn't happen to have a little thing going on, did you?" Jesse asked. A very light touch of pink spread across Reinhardt's cheeks.

            "A gentleman is not supposed to ask, Jesse!” Reinhardt chided. Jesse smirked.

“Who said I was a gentleman?” the cowboy quipped. _Boy, he’s on’a roll t’day!_ Reinhardt rolled his eyes, but seemed to grow a little sheepish.

“Vell... perhaps ve did," he quietly answered. He gave a shake to his head, as though to clear a memory away, and Jesse seemed to know not to bring the subject up anymore. Reinhardt slapped his hands on his knees.

            "My friends! The day is going to get avay from us at this rate! Finish your food, and come out for some fresh air! Zere is nothing like it in the world!" he ordered, and started back out into the cold to collect some shovels.

            Satya came into the kitchen moments later. She had changed into her warmer clothes (provided by Angela upon being dropped off), and had placed a band in to hold her hair back. Jesse reached into his pocket, and tossed her his phone.

            "Winston asked that you call him when you were able to," he instructed. Curiosity piqued, Jaime worked on his breakfast as she once again called, and placed the phone on speaker.

            "Winston? It's me. I have you on speaker so we all can hear," she said after Winston's groggy greeting.

            "Yes. Thank you. Sorry, I dozed off again. I haven't left my office much. I've been contacting as many people as I can... Sorry. That sounded very negative. I actually have some more good news. After going through the files, there seems to be no mention of Overwatch, so at least there's that. It was basically a collection of emails that implicated the Vishkar board of directors in the Rio incidents, as well as possibly some underhanded dealings with Lumerico back last year," he stated. Satya let out another sigh of relief, but something tugged at Jaime's brain. He couldn't quite place it, but the name Lumerico struck a bell. He shoved the feeling aside temporarily so he could go back to listening to their conversation.

            "That is wonderful news. Does that mean we may be able to return to Gibraltar?" she asked. _Yeah! Get me the hell away from this snow shit! I'm ready t'go back home!_ Winston cleared his throat, and Jaime could almost hear the awkwardness.

            "Well... not just yet, unfortunately. The investigations are still ongoing, and I still need to make sure they're not going to use that as an excuse to go through their books. Or, if they do, that they don't pick up on our laundering tactics. On another positive note, the files didn't mention anything about you, or any other undercover agents. It looks like you're in the clear at the moment, though that still doesn't change your status as a missing person," he clarified. Satya pondered his words for a moment.

            "What is to be done about that? Do we have any plans? I'd rather not live a life in hiding forever," she admitted. Jaime couldn't really blame her. He hated 'lying low' after a job; always worried if somebody would eventually recognize him.

            "Well, I'm still trying to make progress on that front, too. I mentioned the investigator acquaintance yesterday. I may be able to arrange it so that you're essentially a witness, and that I've put you under my protection. That would at least draw any remaining attention away from you. And speaking of contacts, the ambassador from the UN whom I spoke with at the gala just contacted me a couple hours ago. He wants to arrange a private meeting to discuss the information we found in Hanamura, as well as these... recent developments with our investor," he said, adding the last bit to bring a sense of comfort. Reinhardt had stepped back into the kitchen just in time to pick up the last part, and gave a triumphant "ha-HA!"

            "Wunderbar! One step closer to repealing the Petras act!" he boomed, and Winston gave a friendly chuckle.

            "Well, we'll see on that one, but I'm actually feeling rather positive... Satya, is it possible for you to take me off speaker? I have some rather personal matters I wish to discuss," he said. Satya stiffened, and her eyes nervously flicked to everyone around her. No one showed any reaction.

            "Yes. Of course. One moment," she said, and picked the phone up. She clicked away, bringing it back to its usual setting while exiting the kitchen for privacy. Reinhardt stepped over to help himself to some of the food Jesse was preparing, and the cowboy went back to playing chef. Jaime took a sip of his coffee when Hog leaned in close to his ear.

            "Whatta' we do?" he quietly rumbled. The other two by the stove didn't seem to hear him.

            "Bout what, mate?" he nearly whispered under his breath. Hog let out a long exhale.

            "Lumerico, ya' knob!" Hog hissed. In a way, it was comforting to know that Hog felt uneasy, too.

            "Y'think they'll figure out our tie-in?" his friend added. _Aw fuck! Aw fuckfuckFUCK!_ He hadn't thought of the Dorado heist in quite some time.

            "Don't see how. We were just'a distraction, right? Had nothin' t'do with that shit beyond th'bank," Jaime hesitantly whispered back. Hog let out another low rumble.

            "I don't like this, Rat," he responded. Jaime stared into his mug, and a sinking feeling settled into his stomach.

            "I don't like it either, mate," he quietly admitted.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            Satya stepped back into her room, and pulled the door shut behind her. A familiar sense of anxiety nestled into her chest at the thought of being reprimanded. Winston seemed so positive at first. Was he going to set the time for her disciplinary hearing? She sat on the bed, and curled her toes into the rug beneath her feet.

            "What would you like to discuss?" she coldly asked, initiating the conversation. _Let's... let's just get this over with..._ Winston cleared his throat again.

            "I started listening to the audio files from the gala. There's still much to go through, though I want you to know I went towards the end to listen to the incident on the rooftop," her superior started. A sharp twinge worked its way up Satya's shoulder, where her gauntlet used to connect. The pain from being blasted by Sanjay's projector ghosted through her, and the detailed memory made her want to climb back under the blankets.

            "I see..." she acknowledged, wishing Winston would cut to the chase. Winston gave a concerned rumble before continuing.

            "In light of what I heard, I think... it's just... oh for the love of Darwin! Satya, I owe you an apology!" he finally conceded. She raised her eyebrows in surprise, and found herself speechless.

            "I wasn't... wasn't happy by any stretch of the imagination about what happened. Vishkar's funding was rather generous, but I had always been hesitant in working with them. Hearing what happened... I'm sorry. I always found Korpal's behavior and mannerisms to be a bit unsettling, but I always wrote it off. I shouldn't have, and after hearing some of the things he said... I'm sorry," he said, apologizing again.

            "I'm sorry, as well. If I had said something to you sooner, or anyone... perhaps all of this could have been avoided," she also conceded. Worry for the safety of the team, and Vishkar listening in had kept her silent. That had been her biggest mistake. _Never again will I be silent._

            "In light of what took place, I think the disciplinary hearing will be unnecessary," he said. She once again found herself surprised.

            "But I still will be sharing some of the details from what happened with the other team members. Not everything, of course, but there is a lot of pertinent information that will need to be heard. I wanted to make you aware," he elaborated. Satya sucked in a silent breath.

            "As you wish... if my negative experience helps yield a positive outcome, then it will not have been a waste," she said. _Silver linings, I suppose._

            "What is... what is to happen if... WHEN we return to Gibraltar? I am still without my gauntlet, and it may take me some time to replicate it. In all honesty, I am not entirely sure I will be able to make it operational," she admitted. She wanted to remain optimistic, but reality was often difficult to ignore. If she couldn't get it back up and running, it was best to have a back-up plan. Winston seemed to be mulling over her question.

            "Well, I'm not one to brag, but I believe I assembled some of the best builders, engineers, and scientists for a reason. I don't think you'll have to worry about that. But, should we run into any difficulties, you needn't worry. You have talents beyond hardlight alone. You're capable enough with weaponry, and training wouldn't be an issue. You'd still be able to build, albeit with more traditional tools and materials. And, as you have graciously offered before, I wouldn't mind a little help with negotiating. Navigating business meetings isn't exactly my idea of a good time," the ape offered. A warmth spread through her. It seemed she still had a place amongst them, but, unlike Vishkar, it wasn't merely because she was seen as a "business asset".

            "Thank you, Winston," she said, and smiled warmly to herself.

            "You'll have to forgive me, though. I still haven't listened to everything from the gala, but I may have overheard some rather... private moments," Winston quipped, and Satya puzzled for only a moment before she realized what he was referring to. Her face immediately ignited in embarrassment. She had, after all, left her earrings on the entire night, which had not only recorded her interactions with Sanjay, but also certain events in the outdoor garden. _Oh my gods…_ Satya would have buried her face in her hand if she could. Winston let out a chuckle.

            "That being said... guess I now know who Jesse's mystery date was!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first started this story, and wrote the scene in Dorado, I was unaware of the connection that their bank heist had with other characters. Having said that, it has offered a great opportunity to transition to the final story arc, and I am hoping to cover it in such a way as to make sense of it all. There's still a bit more story to tell, so stay tuned!


	54. Chapter 54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satya makes some discoveries via a couple of phone calls. Jesse's comments have nestled into Jaime's head, and he finds himself lost in self-reflection. An unexpected turn of events brings everyone back together, though no one knows what's going on.

            "Yeah, recording is just finishing up. He mainly was just needing samples of my voice, and he's going to be mixing it all together. He wanted to make it a limited release at first, but we both decided it'd be better to release it publically, and donate the profits to a charity fund!" Hana chattered. Satya smiled at her friend's excited voice. The two had messaged each other back and forth, but due to the time zone difference, arranging calls was rather tricky.

            "I'm sure the charity you choose will be most grateful. No doubt it will sell well," Satya replied.

            "So... what's it like living with a bunch of dudes the past couple of weeks?" her friend casually asked. Satya's eye twitched, and before she could stop herself, the words came tumbling out.

            "Hana, I don't want to cause you alarm, but I fear I may not survive this without succumbing to insanity!" she quietly hissed. Hana bust into a fit of giggles, and it took a solid minute before she regained the ability to articulate.

            "Oh no! Tell me all about it! I've got nothing planned for the day. Vent away!" Hana offered. Satya let out a breath. She didn't like to speak ill of them. They'd all been so kind and gracious, but the close quarters and temporary house-arrest was beginning to wear on her.

            "Everyone is sweet enough, but, aside from the bathroom, I never get a moment alone! They all keep trying to entertain me, or try to treat me like some dainty princess! Jesse is constantly trying to feed me... Ignoring his casserole, he's a surprisingly adequate cook. Hog keeps wanting to discuss the books we've both read, which would be fine, were it not for the fact that there's really only a certain selection of books we have in common, and I'd rather not discuss... THOSE sorts of details. Reinhardt will not let me help with any of the chores. He insists that I am his guest, and I am not to lift a finger. And Jaime..." she started, but trailed off. 

            She didn't want to say anything. It didn't feel right. She loved him. Really, she did, but ever since their bath he was absolutely insatiable, and practically glued to her side. Everywhere she went, there he was. Her only moment of solitude was a hot bath with plenty of soapy bubbles. After their shared bath, she found he wasn't particularly a fan of the scent on himself, and so she at least had the tub to herself again. And then, of course, there was also the matter of the strange way he kept looking at her. 

            It had been subtle at first, but she always caught him sneaking glances. His face was unreadable, but there was something about him that seemed to be searching for something; like he was trying to picture something in his mind. It didn't feel negative, but there definitely was something to it. Every time she asked him if something was wrong, or tried to pry, he'd shake it off as if it were nothing, or would say he was just looking at her pretty face.

            "Ooof. Sounds like you've got some real cabin fever going. Shoot, and you don't even have a TV or nothing! Think I'd probably die if I were there for more than a day!" Hana noted. _Cabin fever. Yes. A few more degrees, and I will possibly combust!_

            "I'm so desperate, I may actually venture out with Reinhardt on his next walk! I think I'm starting to acclimate to the cold and snow, though," Satya commented. She peeked through the window to the sun setting. Yes, the cold and snow, she could get used to. The lack of sunlight, however...

            "We haven't even had dinner yet, and already the sun is setting!" she noted. Hana gave a sympathizing "awww", and Satya squinted her eyes shut.

            "Winston's been catching us all up on what's happening so far. I've been keeping an eye on the news over here. It seems to have died down a bit. The Global News Network only mentions the incident a couple times a day now. New stories are starting to pop up, so it's kinda' getting pushed to the back burner. Lots of anti-Omnic protests are starting to get violent, and that always freaks people out," Hana noted. Satya grimaced at the news. She saw much of the Omnic hatred in London, and even those she loved and cared for would probably be in agreement with the protesters.

            "I am not particularly happy about the current events around us, but I suppose I do at least feel a little thankful that it's drawing attention away from Vishkar," she admitted. Her right foot had fallen asleep, so she untucked her leg out from underneath her, and flexed away the pins and needles. The memory of Sanjay's blast once again caused her to wince. Though she felt safe within the walls of the lodge, the fresh memories still came to occasionally haunt her dreams, or would flash unbidden in her mind throughout the day. As the days wore on, it became less frequent, but it was still happening, and she wasn't sure what to do about it. She tried all her usual calming techniques, but nothing seemed to work. It was a different form of stress, and would most likely require a different form of coping skill.

            "Oh! And I think Winston was finally able to talk to that investigator friend of his, because they've stopped reporting you as missing. Now you're presumed dead!" Hana cheerfully piped. Satya's eye twitched again.

            "I beg your pardon?!" she stammered. Winston hadn't filled her in on that bit. In fact, he hadn't contacted her in a few days, and she was beginning to grow annoyed, though also worried.

            "Oh! He didn't tell you? Yeah, the investigators have called off their search entirely. So at least your face isn't being blasted across the news," Hana replied. Satya wanted nothing more than to bury her face in her absent palm. Frustration was mounting, but she didn't want to take it out on Hana. Her friend deserved better than to take the brunt of her internalized anger.

            "If they presume I'm dead... oh gods! My bank account will be frozen!" she suddenly realized. Money had never been too much of a concern for her, but its sudden absence terrified her. She heard Hana suck in a worried breath.

            "Hey hey hey! Don't panic! We'll figure it out, okay? Maybe you should call Winston. See what's up? I know he would think up a plan first, or maybe you can figure out a way to get it unfrozen? Or... I mean... Lució has connections of his own that might be able to free them up, worst case scenario..." Hana said, trying to soothe her. Satya didn't exactly like the suspicious tone Hana took towards the end, but she figured it'd be a bit hypocritical to shut her friend down on possible illegal actions when she herself was romantically involved with a wanted thief.

            "You're right, though. A call to Winston is not a bad idea. Hana... would you mind if I cut this a little short? I just worry is all," Satya pleaded. Hana gave a small snort.

            "You? Worry? Noooo!" she sarcastically quipped, "But for real, it's no problem. This stuff is important, and I'd rather you get some answers then float around thinking up worst case scenarios." _You are far too good of a friend to me._ The two said their goodbyes, and she ended the call. _What is even happening?! What is going on?_  She tried her best to utilize her time in the lodge to take a break, relax, and recharge. Following the fight on the rooftop, and her hasty departure into hiding, she knew she wasn't in a proper mental state for critical thinking. But too much time had passed. She needed to return. They all did. At the very least, they needed real answers, and a real plan. 

            She searched through Jesse's phone, and found Winston's personal number. The phone rang four times, and went to voicemail. She didn't bother to leave a message. Satya bit her lip in further worry, and found Lena's contact information. _Perhaps... perhaps she knows what is going on._  Satya started the call, and waited.

            "Jesse? What's up, love?!" Lena cheerfully piped. Satya cleared her throat.

            "It's, um... it’s me, actually. Jesse is letting me borrow his phone," she said in greeting. There was a momentary pause. _Oh gods! I shouldn't have called! This wasn't a good idea! What if I'm compromising their security?!_

            "Oh, it’s you, Sym! How nice! What's goin' on, sweetheart? Gettin' a bit overloaded on testosterone over there?" Lena cheerfully piped back. Satya let out a small strained chuckle.

            "I will not lie. I am, a bit, but I wanted to call because... I know you stayed in Gibraltar, and was wondering... is there any news? Winston hasn't called us in a few days... should I be worried?" Satya finally asked. Lena sighed.

            "Oh, love. I know it's tough for ya', but don't worry. Winston's workin' 'round the clock to get this all figured out! He's just had a LOT of calls and meetings these past couple of weeks. Now, I don't want t'go countin' chickens before they hatch, but I think he's nearly got this all figured out! You lot might all be able to come back home soon!" Lena replied, her voice sounding genuinely positive. Satya let out a long sigh of relief.

            "I owe Winston so much for all he has done," she responded.

            "Aw, love, that's what we do. We got each other’s backs all th'time! S'what makes us different from other teams. It's what makes us family! Sorry... that sounded cheesy, didn't it?" Satya smiled at Lena's words, and her heart ached to see her friends again.

            "Perhaps, but it is none the less true. Could you please tell Winston to call when he gets a moment? I know he is working hard, but I need to discuss some personal matters with him," she said. Lena agreed, they said their goodbyes, and she ended yet another call with a friend. 

            Dinner was a nerve wracking affair. Not only was she feeling antsy for Winston's call, but time itself seemed to come to a standstill. She wasn't one to grow frustrated with impatience, but she could feel it welling up inside her. Her time in London had been more than enough. She was ready to remain home for more than a few hours. _Home... that place truly is my home now, isn't it?_ Gibraltar offered her a space of her own for privacy, but also close contact with the people around her. It offered her work that was truly rewarding, yet time for leisure. Homesickness was once again setting in.

            "Whoa Nelly!" Jesse piped toward the end of the meal. He pulled his buzzing phone out of the back of his pocket, and sat it on the table. Winston was calling in, and Satya practically scrambled to answer.

            "You're on speaker!" she urgently announced. Winston seemed to be taken aback by her abrupt greeting.

            "Oh! Uh... alright," Winston replied, while the sound of shuffling papers emanated from the device, "there's... a lot of information to go through." Satya ground her teeth, but suppressed her frustration.

            "Look, I wanted to do this over the phone, but I'd rather speak with everyone at once. Long story short, are you all ready to head back to Gibraltar?" he finally asked. All five heads looked up from the phone, and exchanged surprised glances. Heading home was, ultimately a good sign, but the abruptness with which he stated it made Satya feel just a touch uneasy. Just what exactly did Winston uncover?

            "Yes, I think it is best if we head back as quickly as possible," Satya responded. Winston's attention seemed to be divided for just a moment before returning back to the conversation.

            "Alright. I'll have to remain here to tie up some loose ends. Lena will fly out without me, and is currently planning a flight itinerary. Due to the nature of everything that unfolded, she'll be picking you all up last. Did you get all that?" he asked. The phone had grown slightly distorted for a moment, but they still were able to make out the last sentence.

            "Yes, my friend. Understood!" Reinhardt announced. Winston made a sound of approval.

            "Good. Now, due to how far out everyone has traveled, Lena won't be able to get you all until the day after tomorrow. Is that also understood?" he once again replied.

            "Understood!" Satya confirmed. Winston told them to expect a call from Lena soon with a more accurate ETA, but had to go to take another phone call. The poor gorilla sounded so frazzled, and it made her feel guilty all over again for bringing it all upon him. _No. No, I was left with little choice. None of this would have happened had Sanjay and Vishkar not been so underhanded. He tried to kill me, and my friends, and the company itself has wronged so many. They do not deserve to be associated with Overwatch!_ She had reminded herself of that every time she felt pangs of guilt try to overtake her, but old habits of self-blame died hard. 

            "Well! That sure was somethin'! What th'hell ya think is goin' on over there?" Jesse commented. Satya rest her hand on her chin in thought.

            "Must be somethin' good, anyway, right? Wouldn't bring us all back if we were in danger, yeah?" Jaime pointed out. Reinhardt folded his arms, and stared at the phone in thought.

            "Perhaps... no, he cannot have gotten ze Petras Act repealed so quickly. Perhaps he found a new investor?" Reinhardt speculated. _That must be it. Or, at least part of it. There must be more, or else Winston would have just told us over the phone._ Satya ran her hand over her thigh in a soothing motion. She still had not gotten a chance to speak with her superior about the matter of her being presumed dead. She reminded herself that there'd be time for questions in just a couple days, but her heart began to race in anxious excitement. _It certainly will be a long couple of days..._

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            Jaime packed the last of his items (which didn't take very long) into his rucksack. Satya was busy making the bed, which was a bit more of an ordeal with only one functioning arm. She had insisted upon washing the bedding before they left, as well as giving the room a good cleaning. Jaime didn't quite understand why, but Satya told him it was a gracious thing to do when somebody allowed you to stay in their home. 

            "I wish we could do more for him. He's been incredibly generous opening up this space for us," Satya commented, mostly to herself. Jaime reached over, and grabbed a pillow off the dresser to hand back to her. She gave the bed a final smooth-over, and stopped to look at her work.

            "Could be better..." she muttered to herself, and began to look about the room. Her eyes settled on the cuckoo clock, and a thought struck her.

            "You know... I have proper tools back at Gibraltar... maybe I can get this up and running!" she announced, and then looked over to see his reaction to her idea.

            "You're doing it again..." she commented. Jaime shook his head to clear his daydreaming.

            "Doin' what?" he nervously croaked. He wasn't sure what exactly was wrong with him. All he knew was he couldn't stop thinking about... well... THEM! Jesse's words had gotten in his head, and there was no shaking them. Why did it all have to be so confusing and complicated? All he knew was that he loved her, she made him happy, and wanted her to be happy. What was wrong with things the way they were? Was she actually thinking about these sorts of things, too? Was it something she even wanted? How would he even go about trying to figure that sort of thing out? And, deep down, there was still some shreds of that same old worry; was he even worthy of her? 

            He was, after all, a Junker. Junkers didn't get married. Some of the older ones still kept up the pretenses of what felt like a bygone era, but the Outback was far too harsh to entertain any concept of a happy existence. Who was he to even remotely try to drag her near that nightmarish lifestyle? The more he thought about it, the more lost he felt. What made it worse was that she was noticing his mental turmoil, too.

            "Staring in concentration. What's on your mind?" she asked. He shrugged.

            "Nothin'. Just ready t'get goin'. It's been swell, but th'swellin's gone down," he joked. She shot him a look that said she didn't believe him, but she didn't attempt to press him further. Her gaze returned to the clock, and her face lit up.

            "I have another idea!" she suddenly beamed. She walked over to the wall, and pointed up at the antique construct.

            "Would you be so kind as to carefully pull that down for me?" she asked. Jaime plopped his bag on the ground, and did as she instructed. She hastily opened her suitcase up, and started pulling out clothes. She then laid out a borrowed sweatshirt from Mei, and had him place it in the center. From there, she carefully tucked the hanging pieces up, and wrapped it up in the fabric like a nice little package. Satya proceeded to make room in her suitcase, and had him nestle in in the center.

            "There! That should keep it safe. When we return, I will work on it on the side in the workshop! If I can't get it to work, I'm sure Torb will assist me!" she excitedly rushed, but paused, and looked back at him, "or, perhaps... would you like to work on this with me? I feel this is something you'd excel at." Her smile was genuine and warm. _Holy fuck, you're perfect, and I ain't ever gonna' let ya' go!_ He didn't care if it was selfish. He knew she could do so much better than somebody like him, and yet, she HAD chosen him. She chose him, and loved him, and wanted him to be a part of her life, and... _holy fuckin' shit. This is real. Like, really real! And... and I said no lookin' back! I ain't a Junker no more! I ain't!_ He nodded emphatically at the idea of working on a project with her.

He found, to his surprise, that he actually had mixed feelings about leaving the lodge. While he had been scaling the walls, and desperately wanted to get back to Gibraltar, the lodge had provided a nice respite from everything that had been thrown into chaos. Every day gave Satya a chance to rest and heal, every day a bit of her old self seemed to return to her, and every day he was thankful that he woke up with her safe in his arms. It felt wonderful to have such a semblance of a normal life. It all brought back hazy memories of his childhood, when his mum and dad were still alive, and they all still lived in a nice house. There was still part of him that wondered if those memories actually were real, or figments of his imagination that were cobbled together out of desperation. _Is that what ya' do when ya' love someone? Get hitched? Make a home? Have a normal job, an' live a normal life?_ He knew there was no chance for him to ever have a truly normal life, but then, he wasn't exactly a normal person, and neither was she. She was too extraordinary of a person for something as simple as that.

            "There we are. Perfect. Oh! We should hurry! Lena should be at the airfield in an hour, and Reinhardt didn't want to keep her waiting," Satya said as she zipped the suitcase close. She pulled the handle up, and rolled it out of the room. He followed behind her silently. The group loaded into the truck, and Reinhardt started the engine. Their host gave a sad sigh looking back at the lodge.

            "I vould like to come again in ze spring or summer months. It is quite beautiful, and I'd love to actually do some fishing..." he mused to himself.

            "Wouldn't mind that. Haven't gone fishin' since I was a kid," Jesse replied. Jaime had never given fishing much thought. The water in the Outback was far too irradiated to trust anything that was caught, and really, what was the point of fishing if you couldn't eat what you caught?

            "Zat is far too long! This summer, I vill plan a proper holiday. I need to put my new lures to use!" Reinhardt announced, and Satya smiled at the mention of the gift she had sent. The ride back to their drop-off point was quiet with a mix of emotions. Everyone felt equal parts excited and anxious, but also a touch of worry. Reinhardt unloaded the bags for everyone, and returned the vehicle to the search and rescue team. The dropship awaited them outside the small hangar. They had barely set foot aboard when somebody came running.

            "SYM!" Hana shouted, and made a bee-line for her friend. Satya let go of her suitcase just in time to be nearly bowled over by Hana's exuberant bear hug. She practically lifted Satya off the floor! A moment later, she withdrew the hug.

            "Sorry! I just... just really missed you is all!" she hastily apologized. Having regained her ability to breathe, Satya let out a small chuckle.

            "I missed you, too," she greeted. Hana turned her eyes to him, and came running his way as well.

            "And you!" she beamed, and wrapped him into another crushing hug. _Holy shit, Pipsqueak! How d'you do that?!_ When his own breath finally returned to him, she ran over to Hog, but only managed to slap against the side of him. She attempted to hug him none the less, and he gently (well, as gently as he could) patted her back. Once their luggage had been situated on the ship, they traveled to the upper deck, where the rest of the team awaited them.

            There was a warm greeting all around. It was the first time in over two weeks that the whole team had managed to gather together, but with the way everyone acted, it felt like a lifetime. Torb came plodding up to Reinhardt, and the pair immediately launched into a jovial conversation. Angela came over to greet Satya. Mei, Zarya, and Pharah came over to personally greet Jesse, while also tossing a little wave at him and Hog. Having noticed them standing towards the back, Torb paused his conversation with Reinhardt, and came over to Jaime and his friend.

            "And how did you like de lodge?" he asked.

            "Z'nice," Hog said, and shrugged, "but that snow is shit." Torb let out a snorting laugh in response, but motioned to Jaime with a nod of his head to possibly step aside. Hog noticed the motion, and stepped away to give them privacy. With everyone out of earshot, Torb waved him down to his height. Puzzled, Jaime hunched down.

            "How's she holdin' up?" he asked, his eyes flicking over to Satya. Jaime wasn't sure exactly what to answer, but Torb's genuine concern for her welfare reminded him that the people of Overwatch were nothing like the Junkers, and could always be trusted.

            "She's... I think she's doin' alright. Hard t'tell sometimes," he answered. Putting his observations into words was proving difficult, but Torb seemed to understand. He nodded a bit.

            "Glad she's done wit' dat place. Never liked 'em. When we first started workin' together, thought de worst. She... she sure did prove me wrong, though. How about you? How're you holdin' up?" he elaborated. The question at the end threw him for a loop. How did he feel? _Christ, that's a loaded question!_ Jaime shrugged.

            "I'm fine. Ready t'get back," he clipped. Torb gave a nod of acceptance.

            "I t'ink de same can be said fer all of us!" he replied. The intercom clicked on.

            "Alright, loves! I don't know about you lot, but I'm ready t'get back home! Find a seat, so we can take off, alright?" Lena's voice drifted in. She sounded chipper enough, but he could tell there was an underlying layer of exhaustion as well. The crew did as they were instructed. Jaime sat to Satya's right, so he could lace his fingers with hers. Hog sat to his right as well, and Hana sat on Satya's other side. The ship started up, and gained altitude.

            The rhythmic hum of the engine was surprisingly soothing, and was hard to not give into. A half hour in, Hana leaned on Satya's shoulder, and dropped off. Satya, in turn, leaned on Jaime's shoulder, and also nodded off. Jaime couldn't resist the lulling temptation. He yawned, and like so many times before, leaned over on Hog.

            "Christ, you three..." Hog rumbled. Jaime was still technically awake.

            "Fuckin' deal with it, mate..." he replied, and succumbed to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another transitioning chapter. Consider it the calm before the storm.


	55. Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew returns to Gibraltar, and it's a day just full of surprises!

            Satya sat in front of Winston's desk, and nervously gripped her thigh. She had grown used to being without her left arm, but at that moment, she desperately needed to wring her hands together. Winston padded into the room, and took his seat in front of her. He clicked at one of his screens, and the door slid shut.

            The crew had landed only a half hour ago. She walked out of the dropship, pulling her suitcase behind her. Winston waited in the hangar, and motioned her over. Jaime leaned in and took the handle of the suitcase for her. He gave her an encouraging smile, but it did little to diminish the anxiety that quickly rocketed through her. She didn't understand why she was suddenly so nervous. Meetings with Winston always went well enough, and Lena seemed so positive over the phone. Satya had attempted to get answers out of her in the cockpit, but she said she didn't know enough of the details to explain it to her. _Surely, if I was still in danger, he would not have called us back._ It was a logical observation, but even that wouldn't put a stop to the feeling dwelling inside her.

            "How was the lodge?" he asked. His voice was calm, but she could tell it was merely an awkward icebreaker. Satya bowed her head slightly.

            "It was a quiet experience. I will not lie. It was nice to have somewhere so remote and peaceful to hide away in," she answered, equally as awkward.

            "I hear I am no longer considered a missing person," she added, hoping to get to the point of the conversation as quickly as possible. Winston pressed his fingertips together.

            "Yes. Well, about that... I contacted my friend working on the investigation. I explained that I had taken you on as a temporary engineering assistant for my own personal endeavors, but you had been called back for the Tranquility Project. I also told her that I had grown worried about your lack of communication. When I saw you at the gala, you told me you discovered information pertaining to Sanjay's assassination plot, and that you feared for your safety. I reached out to old Overwatch acquaintances to find you a safe haven, and that is why you disappeared," he explained, obliging her by not wasting anymore time. Satya's jaw almost dropped. Her eyes widened.

            "I see. And she is a person you trust?" Satya asked. Winston's jaw was set. He looked right into her eyes.

            "I would not have risked your safety and wellbeing if I didn't," he stated. Satya nodded. There was no doubt in her mind that every word he spoke was truthful.

            "The explanation you gave her... I assume it is to keep her unaware of the Recall.”

            "Yes. I trust her, but if she herself is questioned, she cannot lie about, nor deny the Recall's existence, so I withheld that information... When I told her you were in hiding, she pushed to have the search called off, and you are now presumed dead. This also offers you protection from any possible Vishkar retaliation, which I will explain in the debriefing," he replied.

            "If I am presumed dead, then my monetary assets are now frozen, are they not?" she asked. Winston gave a concerned rumble.

            "As of this moment, yes, but I am working on a way to have that undone. You left no will behind, though Vishkar claims that you left instructions that everything is to be left to them," he started, but was interrupted by Satya's angry huff.

            "Like bloody hell I did!" she hissed under her breath. Winston gave a snort in substitute of a laugh.

            "I am working on a forged will, and hope to have your assets generously 'donated' to one of our front charities. In which case, I will have it managed through our own personal accounts, much like with Junkrat and Roadhog. If that doesn't work, then... I will reach out to some of my more... tech-savvy acquaintances. Would be an awful shame if your bank suffered an unfortunate security breach," he elaborated. It was a tenuous position. Winston truly was putting his neck on the line for her.

            "If... if the forged will doesn't work, do not worry. I'd rather you not put yourself in further danger, nor bring on more people than are necessary. I... I will consider it a fresh start," she replied. _I hardly spent any of my money as it was. And no doubt I will make a sufficient salary with Overwatch... eventually. It'd be worth it just to know I am someplace safe._  Another thought suddenly occurred to her.

            "And what is to become of my identity?" she asked. Winston reached into his top drawer, and pulled out an ID card, a bank card, a passport, and more.

            "I took the liberty of crafting a false identity for you. For now, you'll have to live under a pseudonym. I wish I could tell you for how long, but as things currently stand, I don't have a solid answer on that," he answered. Satya took in a quiet breath. _I suppose it really WILL be a fresh start_.

            "I... ah... I need some time to process this," she quietly admitted. Her superior nodded.

            "I understand. I feel more of your questions will be answered at the debriefing, though I will not fault you if you wish to sit it out. I will personally fill you in later, if you'd like. Your decision," he calmly stated. He placed the ID and more on the desk, and slid it her way. She took the collection of badges and papers, and stood from her seat. Winston opened the door for her, and she gave him a nod in thanks.

            _No... I will process this later. I need to know first-hand what is happening._ She turned towards her room. Jaime had left her door unlocked, her suitcase near the foot of her bed, and her keycard on her desk. He also left a scrap of paper with a little heart drawn on it, as well as a little bit of his chicken-scratch handwriting. **J+S**. She smirked at the note, and tossed her bundle onto the desk as well. It was then that she finally noticed the false name Winston had given her.

 

            **Mrs. Nemali Templeton**

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

 

            Jaime waited in the briefing room next to Hog. Hana decided to join them towards the back, and the rest of the crew slowly trickled in to take their seats. There was no sign of Satya, which worried him at first. It wasn't like her to skip a meeting, much less one that had so much to do with her own person. Eventually, he noticed her slip in, and he nonchalantly waved her over. She took her seat in the empty chair next to him, though he noticed an odd look on her face. _Probably just got a lotta' thoughts runnin' in her head._ He tried to be patient, but curiosity gnawed at him. He wanted to know what had happened in the office. Just as he was about to ask her, the door opened, and Winston came in.

            It took no time for the crew to quiet down. Curious faces stared at the podium with considerable concentration. Winston brought up a screen, and dimmed the lights. Apparently, a presentation was in order. The ape said nothing. He shuffled papers, and readied his notes. He took his glasses out of his metal case, and popped them on.

            "I tried to keep in touch with all of you over the last couple of weeks, but I apologize if any of you felt left out. It's been a very busy time for me. Well, us," he started, indicating the team as a whole. He clicked at his transparent keyboard, and images of some of the headlines from the Vishkar incidents popped up on the large screen.

            **Vishkar Under Fire!**

**Vishkar Board Members Arrested!**

**Vishkar Suspected Perpetrators Behind Rio Fires!**

**Proof of Vishkar Crimes Leaked!**

           

            Satya stiffened in the seat next to him, and he ground his teeth at the worry that was no doubt coursing through her. The time at the lodge had done wonders for her, but seeing the headlines had brought it all crashing back for her. And, to his surprise, him as well. Usually he could put incidents like that behind him easily enough, but something about the time on the rooftop sunk in deep. Seeing her in danger had brought a real sense of fear to the equation. 

            "No doubt you all have kept up with news, on top of what I filled you in with. I had my acquaintance on the investigation team call off the search for Satya. She is now presumed dead," Winston quickly summarized. A few heads turned back to look at her, and Jaime scowled back at them. _Don't do that!_

            "She also told me each of the board members are practically racing each other to try and give as much information as possible in hopes to gain a lighter sentence, or possibly even total immunity..." he continued, and Jaime rolled his eyes. _Fuckin' suits! 'Course they would! Bloody cowards!_

            "So here's what happened. According to the rather… compliant sources, a few months back, Vishkar's security had been breached by an exceptionally skilled hacker. There, the Rio emails were found, along with some pertaining to Dorado and Lumerico, and the information was basically held for ransom," Winston elaborated. That same tense knot wound its way into his stomach. _Aw Christ! It can't be her! It can't!_  His eyes flicked to Hog, who's fist had tightened. No, it couldn't have been. Or, at least, if it was, then Winston didn't find their connection. If he had, he would have already spoken to them, or possibly even chuck them out. _She didn't hold up her end'a th'bargain, anyways._

            "Vishkar called Sanjay Korpal back to headquarters to deal with the situation. The hacker wanted some of their experimental tech, and also wanted to forge a bit of an alliance. Sanjay also, according to recordings taken by Satya, tried to sway the board to stop funding us. He seemed to know that something is going to happen. Something big. Something I'm worried we may not be able to handle at our current state." A tense murmur spread through the group before settling back down a minute later.

            "While there, he was given a prototype photon projector, which Satya managed to bring back. As it stands, the investigation team currently believes that the hacker met with Sanjay on the roof, but double-crossed him, killed him, took the weapon, and left. The hacker, and their possible accomplices, also leaked the emails to buy themselves time so Vishkar couldn't retaliate. However, when asked if they knew any details about the suspect, they all feigned ignorance. They all said the suspect contacted them very anonymously. It seems that this is not a person they wish to tangle with, despite the leaks, which has me the most worried," he said. His admission to said worry caused a look of shock to overcome the group. _Wait... so what's th'good news?! Lena said y'had good news!_ As if Winston could read his thoughts, the ape's eyes brightened.

            "But, I actually have good news as well! At the same time that I was contacting the investigator, I was also contacted by the British UN ambassador, whom I met with at the gala. He went through the information we procured in Hanamura, and spoke with several other ambassadors. They are forming a bit of an alliance to aid us in overturning the Petras Act! And, due to the nature of what was uncovered through Vishkar's leaks, it may be overturned in as little as a few months!" he beamed. The crew was left utterly speechless. _I... this... I could clear m'record! I could have a clean slate!_  It helped. God, did it help! The worry from only a couple minutes ago was quickly overshadowed by the surprisingly positive news. Or, at least, it pushed it to the back burner. 

            "I have even more good news! The ambassadors who are working with us are also trying to pull together funding so we can continue our work now, and I was also contacted yesterday by a familiar face..." Winston said, his voice growing surprisingly giddy. He clicked, and across the screen came Lució's picture. Hana sat a little straighter in her chair. It was apparent that she had no clue about Lució's plans.

            "No doubt you've all heard that he and Hana recorded an album while you were all away. Well, he's working like crazy to finish producing it. Hana... I know you two discussed donating your profits to a charity of your choosing. Lució has graciously offered his profits go to our 'non-profit', though he said he couldn't speak for your share..." he said, looking up from his notes. Hana blinked her eyes a few times, and looked around.

            "Uh... do you even have to ask?! Of course I'll donate them!" she nearly shrieked in excitement. _All of 'em?!_ Jaime couldn't fathom being so willing to give up such a large sum of money. It reminded him of the mystery donor at Lució's concert. Applause erupted from the team in Hana's honor, and Winston gave a beaming smile.

            "And there we are! Our funding will be taken care of. The Petras act is on the fast track to getting repealed. Folks... we may just be able to pull this off! We might be able to bring Overwatch back!" The applause from the team transitioned to a roar of excitement. Lena wiped away tears. Torb and Reinhardt clapped each other on the back, and Jesse practically leaped over his chair to scoop Hana up. He planted a smacking kiss on her cheek.

            "Darlin' you're one in a million!" he hooted, and set her back on her feet. Hana jokingly rubbed her cheek with the back of her hand while laughing. Jaime felt a warmth suddenly rush through him. He was home, his friends were joyous, and Satya (despite her own personal ordeals) was smiling. It brought back the happier memories from the gala, when the team had gathered around to ring in the New Year. It was nothing like Junkertown, and he and Hog were fortunate enough to be a part of it.

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            The crew came into the mess hall shortly after the meeting and good news to find that Winston had fired up the kitchen drones in time to create a proper dinner. Everyone took their seats in their usual places. Satya sat with her tray, and looked around the room full of smiling faces and chatter. It felt like old times, and she had missed it dearly. And yet... it really did feel like a fresh start. She was no longer Symmetra, nor even Satya Vaswani. She shook her head from the silly thought. _A temporary change in name does not mean I am no longer the person I was before. After all, what's in a name? But... why did Winston choose...THAT name?_ It brought up too many thoughts that would only further complicate things. And so, she shoved them aside. She would still be Satya Vaswani, though now she had a chance to start her life over without Vishkar breathing down her neck, and in a manner of her own choosing.

            Jaime, Hog, and Hana came to her table a few minutes later with loaded trays of their own. They took their seats, and chatted between bites. Hana asked her a few small-talk questions here and there, and wondered if she'd join her later in the common room to play some videogames. Satya smiled, but had to decline the offer.

            "I will gladly watch, but I'm afraid I won't be able to utilize the controllers," she answered, moving her shoulder for emphasis. Hana blushed, embarrassed.

            "Sorry... kinda'... kinda' forgot there," she sheepishly admitted.

            "It's alright. I take no offense," Satya reassured. It reminded her yet again that, before anything else, she'd first need to take on the challenge of recreating her gauntlet. She looked over her shoulder at Torb, who was laughing at a joke that Angela had just told. _It can wait for tomorrow... I will not interrupt a good time between friends._

            When dinner finally concluded, Satya excused herself. She wanted to head to the workshop to gather her tools so that she could begin work on the cuckoo clock, and actually feel useful. And, if she were to be honest with herself, she genuinely missed being in there. She never cared for the London offices. She much preferred a workspace that allowed her to strike when a design idea came to her.

            She clicked the light on, and was also hit by familiar aromas. A metallic scent mingled with that of grease and oil. Jaime's residual mix of sweat, gunpowder, and smoke permeated around his work station, which was an utter wreck. She sucked in a breath of disapproval. _No! You love him! Focus on your own station! Your station was kept clean!_ And the voice inside her was right. No one had touched it since she left. She knew they'd respect her work area, but it was still a heartwarming sight. She opened her bottom left drawer, and pulled out a compact case. Inside were small delicate tools. They'd be perfect for the job.

            "Thought I might catch ya' in here!" Torb said, announcing his presence. She nearly jumped at his voice, and spun around.

            "Oh! Yes. Just... retrieving something I needed," she ambiguously explained. Torb gave a knowing nod.

            "I see... got yer own little projects on de side?" he asked. Satya nodded in return.

            "Of sorts, yes," she answered. She wanted to keep the cuckoo clock a surprise, and didn't want to bring Torb in on the project unless it was necessary. She had heard from Angela that Torb had an unfortunate knack for inadvertently spoiling surprises.

            "Would probably be easier with two hands, don't y'think?" he suggested.

            "Yes, though the same could be said about most everything, I'd imagine," she smirked. Torb let out a raspy chuckle.

            "Godalmighty, I missed havin' ya' 'round here!" he clucked. When their shared laughter died down, Torb's face took on something equal parts sad, but also pleased.

            "I mean it, though. Place hasn't been de same without ya. Glad... glad y'made it back. I'm glad yer… doin' better," he said. His sudden change in demeanor took her by surprise. There was so much more hidden underneath the surface of his simple remark, and the look on his face spoke volumes.

            "Thank you... I am glad to be back, and I do feel... better. I am not fully there yet, but I will be soon," she quietly replied. The answer seemed to satisfy him. He held his hand up a finger in realiztion.

            "I have a gift for ya! Let me go get it!" he grinned, and took off for a moment. He was gone for several minutes, and she whiled away the time reacquainting herself with the contents of her desk. Eventually, the sound of his heavy steps came clunking back in. He was carrying a long metal case. The case itself looked so familiar, but she couldn't place it right away. Torb stood in front of her, and held it out.

            "Found m'self rather bored at home. Didn't have much t'do, so I started fiddelin'. Well, more like continued..." he started. Satya took the case, and sat it on her desk. She clicked it open, and for a moment, she was breathless. There, nestled in the padding of the case, was her flawlessly repaired hardlight gauntlet.

            "My gods! But... how?!" she gasped. The circuitry had been rendered useless by the EMP blast, and the parts that were required would have been too difficult to come by in such a short amount of time. Many of them would had to have been completely recreated. Torb scratched the back of his head, awkwardly.

            "I... I wanted ter surprise ya. Been workin' on dis fer a long while... ever since y'went over de cliffs. I took yer crushed arm. Wanted ter try an’ fix it up. I know I was supposed ter destroy it after yer replacement came, but I couldn't. Knew... I knew if y'had yer own arm that weren't their property, you coulda' gotten outta' dere... Never liked dat place, Sym. Dey were no good to ya'... Well, den y'gave me de other one, with nice casing, and a lens dat works. It was pretty simple after dat. Couldn't wait t'give it to ya..." he quietly explained. Tears welled up in Satya's eyes, threatening to spill over.

_I cannot believe it, but here it is!_ Hardlight design and construction had not been just a job, or career. It was part of her very being. For a second, she stood transfixed. Through the skills and talents of a good friend, she had regained her very purpose. She immediately dropped down, and wrapped her arm around him.

            "My friend... thank you..." she quietly wept. Torb gave her a couple of reassuring pats on her back, and she slowly pulled away. His face was red, and his good eye was glassy.

            "Well, don't just stand dere! Try it on! Couldn't even be sure de darn thing even works! Can't bend light like you!" he said, his voice strained. Satya grabbed the familiar prosthesis, and began to latch it in place. Immediately, the blue lights at the shoulder came to life, and for the first time in over half a month, she once again had a functioning arm.

            She marveled at the sensation again. She flexed her fingers, tested the flexibility of her wrist, bent and straitened at her elbow, and rolled her shoulder. Everything reacted with natural fluid motions; as though it really were an organic part of her body.

            "At de very least, you got yerself an arm again!" he grinned, though his eyes flicked nervously to the lens in her palm. She knew why he appeared nervous. He was worried he hadn't correctly fused in the lens. Satya stared down at her palm for a moment, and closed her eyes. _It doesn't have to be anything complex. Start with something small..._ She held her fingers over the crystal disc, and reopened her eyes. Concentrating with more focus than she'd ever mustered before, she stilled her mind, and plucked a wisp of light.

            The wireframe came together almost instantaneously. Her hands worked in tandem, and when the piece finally solidified, she held the object out for him in offering. It was a replica of Torb's favorite wrench. He gently grabbed it with his good hand, and examined the piece.

            "Well... looks... looks like it works!" he croaked, and wiped away a few tears.

            "It would appear so!" she croaked back, and the pair shared a quiet laugh, and a small moment of silence.

            "Well... well shouldn't you be showin' it off? I won't lie to ya! I'm right proud'a that one! Never took on a challenge like dat before!" he said. Satya agreed, tucked the tool case under her arm, and headed to the common room.

            She didn't say anything upon entering. She found herself feeling too excited, giddy, and (to her surprise) playful. She leaned over the back of the sofa between Jaime and Hana. The pair were playing a fighting game. Hana was utterly destroying Jaime.

            “I’m tellin’ you, Ratboy! As soon as my donation comes pouring in, I’m gonna’ convince Winston to let me keep an eye on my investment. Gonna’ make some real changes around her. Ugh! Starting with this absurdly tiny TV screen!” Hana vowed. Neither of them seemed to notice her presence.

            "I call next spot," she said with a straight face. She drummed her fingers across the cushion, and patiently waited for them to notice.

            "Gonna' be your boyfriend, considering the way he's playin... OH MY GOD, SYM!!!" Hana screamed, and her controller slipped out of her hand and clattered to the floor. Jaime's head whipped around, and his jaw dropped nearly as much as the controller. The heads of the other team members in the common room also looked over at the commotion.

            "I... FWAH...HOW?!" Jaime stammered. A wry smile crossed Satya's face. She held her arm out for inspection, and gazed at it with admiration.

            "Oh, I can't take the credit on this one. Torb gave me a hand."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It hasn't been a good year for me (or for anyone, from what I hear), so I wanted to write something happy and fun to end the year on a high-note. (Don't worry! Still have just a bit more to start off your 2017)


	56. Chapter 56

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew is back, and feeling positive! The ladies have a girls-night-in, and Satya informs them about her change in identity. Satya and Hana have a heart-to-heart, and later, she and Jaime have... the talk!

            Their return to the watchpoint had been a momentous occasion for the team. The older members were seeing the signs of its revival, and had never been so excited to return. Though the dark cloud of Talon (and its mysterious plans) were ever-looming, the fact that the Recall had made it that far was a feat in and of itself. The turning point brought a small glimmer of hope, and the team wanted to celebrate the best way they knew how; with food and drinks.

            Jaime had asked Satya if she wanted to team up with him and Hog to make some proper barbecue. Helping him prepare in the kitchen had been rather entertaining, and allowed her to see a new side of him. Arson, pyrotechnics, engineering, sketching; Jaime was a man of many surprising talents, but cooking was by far the one she never expected of him when he'd first arrived. He explained that he used to read cookbooks every now and again in the Outback, and he always wanted to make food that didn't taste like garbage. At his request though, he wanted her to make the sauces and marinades.

            "I wanna' try somethin' different! Let's see what you can do!" he had challenged her, and oh how she stepped up to the plate. After a little while in the kitchen, she brought a small sampling on a spoon, and handed it to him. He popped the whole thing in his mouth, and his face immediately grew red. He squinted back tears, and she wondered if he'd ignite.

            "It's perfect! I love it! But... maybe a second batch fer the cowards..." he choked, and she gave a chuckle. She made a coconut sauce that was sweet, and nowhere near as spicy. 

            She joined him outside (standing a good way back while he ignited the planks). Being his partner at the grill (she refused to call it a barbie) was quite enjoyable, and it reminded her of the first time he and Hog volunteered to barbecue. On that particular day, she discovered him to be refreshingly light-hearted and carefree, but what had surprised her even more was how dedicated he could be when he was able to finally hone in and concentrate on something. In that case, cooking.

            At some point during the meal preparation, Hana had joined them. Satya was busy basting her inferno sauce on one half of the meat, while Jaime brushed on a layer of the other. He was whistling a tune stuck in his head, and Satya smiled at the endearing sight. It wasn't until she heard a click and a small chuckle, that she looked over her shoulder. Hana was busy clicking away at her phone with a big grin.

            "Aw, that's cute! So gonna' frame that one!" Hana said under her breath. Satya pointed a basting brush at her.

            "If you have time for pictures, then you have time to assist!" she jokingly chided. Hana rolled her eyes, but started collecting dirty trays and dishes with a smirk. 

            Dinner went well into the night. Drinks were had, and from somewhere in the depths of a forgotten supply closet, Winston found a karaoke machine. It was obnoxious and loud, but the team had so much fun that she could nearly ignore their off-key or off-tempo singing. Three glasses of wine and a shot of whisky later (because Jesse egged her on), Satya had reached a pleasant buzz. Inhibitions were shed. She got up and grabbed the microphone.

            Singing was never a hobby she particularly pursued, but she liked the sound of her voice well enough, and didn't mind singing to herself on some occasions. She chose a lighthearted folk tune that she had heard while visiting the states a few years back, and gave it her best shot. The team cheered her at the end, and she breathed out a sigh of relief.

            "That... that was gorgeous, love! ... but now it's my turn! Prepare t'be dazzled!" Jaime grinned. He sang the only song her ever truly loved: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. Yes, Jamison Fawkes was a man of many talents. Singing, however, was not one of them. She cringed and clapped at the same time. Hana recorded the entire performance. 

            Satya was relieved to find the next morning that she managed to not have a hangover, but it was time to get back to her usual routine. Jaime was still passed out next to her. He, on the other hand, would most certainly be sporting a hangover, and so she prepared a glass of water, a bottle of aspirin, a rubbish bin on the floor, and a pair of sunglasses. She then laced her shoes, and headed out to the track. 

            Satya's breath came out in puffy clouds as her feet pound against the pavement. It was a cool damp morning, and she was trying to get back into the habit of waking early for her usual run... jog... sprint?  _Oh, I've grown far too lazy! My legs are sure to ache tomorrow!_ She reminded herself not to get discouraged. It had, after all, been at least two months since her last real workout.  _Still no excuse to become so... shiftless._  A second pair of feet came pounding on the track behind her, and slowly closed the gap between them.

            "Looks like you've slowed down a bit, Vaswani!" Pharah chided as she passed her by. Satya huffed and puffed to try and pick up her speed, but it was no use.

            "Nowhere to jog in London?" she asked, slowing her pace down so Satya could catch up.

            "No time!" she managed to say in between breaths. Pharah stuck by her so she wouldn't be alone, and even encouraged her along. She didn't try to push for conversation, which was fine by Satya. The pair seemed to be in the same mindset of concentration. When Satya decided to stop (before keeling over), Pharah waved her off.

            "See you at girls night!" she said, and Satya waved back in agreement. The ladies the night before had all decided that it'd been far too long since they'd gone out. Satya, still feeling nervous about the new identity, had initially wanted to hang back, but Hana didn't want her to miss out. She suggested a girls night in, and they all thought it was a fantastic idea. The plan was simple; kick the men out of the common room, and use it for their own purposes.

            Returning back to a normal routine of breakfast, followed by time in the workroom almost felt surreal to her. As she suspected, Jaime was a bit hungover, but seemed to be able to function well enough. He was fairly quiet at first, but as the day wore on, both he and Torb seemed to perk up. There was friendly banter at their design table, jokes to be had, and it wouldn't be a real workday until somebody cracked a pun so bad that the other two would groan. An announcement from Athena told them all about a mission briefing for the day after next, but beyond that, the first day back was relatively quiet.

            Satya found that Hana was already in the common room after dinner. As per her friend's instructions, Satya arrived in her pajamas and robe, and had brought a pillow and blanket. Hana explained that they wouldn’t be sleeping there, but it was mostly to make themselves extra cozy. She also helped her friend move some of the furniture around to make room for the group. As their friends trickled in, each one brought something to the table. Lena brought a stack of board games to choose from, while Zarya and Mei brought some snacks they had whipped up (they also sported the slippers they had received in Satya's care package). Pharah brought some cards and poker chips. Angela brought wine, which was immediately opened.

            It felt wonderful to be amongst her friends. Much as she loved the time spent in the lodge, she realized how much she appreciated having female companionship as well. They started with a trivia game. Satya teamed up with Mei, and while they absolutely decimated the science and math questions, they lost horrendously to Hana and Lena on pop culture and literature. Hana managed to talk Angela into trying out a racing game, and the ladies learned an interesting fact; Angela was an angry gamer, and (when cut-off) could swear like a sailor. Pharah tried a game, and it came as no shock to anyone that she was a decent shot with a rocket launcher.                                    

       Three glasses of wine later, Satya felt nice and relaxed for the second time in twenty-four hours. Games turned to conversation. Angela recounted her time back home. Zarya and Mei shared pictures from their trip to Hawaii. Pharah shared a few stories of her time spent visiting her Helix friends. And, of course, everyone wanted to know details from the lodge stay.

            "It was very peaceful there, though I was ill-prepared for it. I wish I had brought more to occupy my time," Satya admitted.

            "So, you never left the lodge grounds? Not even for a ride into town?" Mei piped. Satya shook her head no.

            "No. Winston had the three of us under temporary house arrest. I would have stuck out like a sore thumb as it was. I barely feel safe to leave now," she answered. Lena shrugged.

            "Aw, I dunno', love. Winston's false identities are top-notch. Someone'd have to dig pretty deep if they wanted t'find your real name and such!" she confidently replied.

            "That's right! I never got your new name. What am I to call you when we are out of the watchpoint?" Zarya inquired. Satya brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, frustrated that the topic even came up.

            "It's Nemali," she rushed, ready to move on. The others clearly weren't.

            "Nemali? That's pretty! What about your surname?" Mei asked. Satya bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from pulling a face. _Just say it like there's nothing out of place..._

            "Oh! Uh... Templeton," she nonchalantly replied. There was a pause, which was quickly broken by Mei's sweet unassuming voice.

            "Oh! That's weird. Isn't that the same as Junkrat's?" she innocently asked. Satya couldn't fault her, but she suddenly felt a roomful of eyes on her.

            "It's not odd. It's actually quite common. Helix would do the same for some of its employees. It provided extra protection to give opposite relationship statuses. If people are still looking for either one of them, they wouldn't suspect somebody who is married, and vice versa," Pharah cut in. Satya breathed an internal sigh of relief for Pharah's quick response.

            "Yes, I suppose that's true," Angela added, but the look on her face said she didn't believe it for a second.

            "Hey! Who wants a pedicure? I brought some different colors!" Hana quickly cut in while holding up bottles of nail polish. Zarya was the first to accept the offer, and chose the brightest shade of pink in Hana's collection.

            As the night wore down, the ladies slowly trickled back to their rooms until it was just Hana and Satya. The two paired up on the couch, and started playing a co-op puzzle game that Hana had picked up while in Los Angeles. She had saved it just so they could play together. The game was bright, colorful, and played rather happy music. The characters were cute and whimsical. Satya loved playing it mostly because it gave a glimpse into Hana's thought process.

            "Oh! Don't forget that key on the lower level! I think we can use it back at that green door!" Hana mentioned. Satya's little elf climbed down some stairs to snag the key she was speaking of.

            "Thank you! I nearly missed that! I suppose my eyes are growing weary," Satya commented. There was a minute of silence in the room (save for the happy music in the game).

            "So... Nemali Templeton, huh?" Hana finally remarked. Satya's hands tightened on the controller.

            "Ah... yes... It seems that way," she quietly replied. Hana stifled a grin.

            "How does Ratboy feel about that?" Hana asked. Satya's elf jumped over a pit of spikes, and used a rope to help Hana's dwarf cross.

            "I haven't told him yet, actually. I didn't think it necessary," she lied. In truth, she was scared. Would it make him uncomfortable? Would it change the way he looked at her? Though it was a false identity, she found it brought many personal worries to the front of her mind. Would it be the same way for him?

            "What? No offense Sym, but that's a load of BS if I ever heard one!" Hana quipped. Satya's elf stopped running in its tracks, and she looked down at the controller.

            "Are you scared he might freak out?" Hana asked, hitting the nail on the head. Her dwarf caught up to the elf, and also paused.

            "...yes..." she nearly whispered. _Gods, why did Winston have to choose THAT name?! He could have chosen anything else! I know he probably thought it funny, or wanted to give me an extra layer of protection, like Pharah said, but... why did he have to make things so confusing?_ She felt Hana's hand rest on her shoulder, and she looked over at her friend.

            "Sym... Satya... he came all the way to London dressed in a tux just to see you a day sooner. He learned how to DANCE just to impress you. He... he fucking came running to a rooftop to rescue you. I don't think he'd freak out over a false identity," Hana pointed out. Satya suddenly realized it wasn't his reaction she was worried about. It was her own indecision, and Hana seemed to sense it as well.

            "You love him, right?" Hana asked, and Satya nodded. Hana gave a reassuring smile.

            "Just... just talk to him, then. Worst case scenario, you two will just keep things rolling the way they have been!" she cheerfully added. Satya nodded to placate her friend, and it seemed to work. Hana turned back to the screen.

            "Alright then. Let's finish up this level and then go to bed!"

 

.           .           .           .           .

 

            As per her expectations, Satya woke the next morning with sore stiff legs. She grimaced and groaned as she slowly pulled herself out of bed. Running wasn't an option, so she bent down into some stretches to hopefully work the stiffness out. Jaime mumbled in his sleep before rolling over into her nest of blankets and sheets. Hana's words echoed in her mind. When she crawled into bed the night before, Jaime was already fast asleep. She wouldn't dare wake him. Sound sleep was still a novelty for him, and something he desperately needed. And so, she spent a large portion of the night tossing, turning, and staring at the ceiling.

            _I know I love him, and he loves me, but... is this something I want forever? Is this something he wants? Do Junkers even have a concept of... commitment like that?_ It had been nice just letting things develop naturally between them. There was no pressure in that, but in the end, a committed relationship and marriage had never been something she ever thought would be in her cards.

            Her life with Vishkar had been well thought-out and planned, and at that time, marriage was never part of the equation. She planned to work her way up, and dedicate herself to the company. Of course, that was no longer an option, and she was glad for it. But it also was something she'd never anticipated, and she was now presented with an internal dilemma that she never thought she'd have to contend with. What did she really want? _I love him. He loves me. What more do we need?_

Work seemed to drag on. While she loved being able to design and practice to her heart's content, she was tired and still stuck in her own thought-loops. When Torb finally left for the day, Jaime scooted his chair over to her side of the table, and planted a smacking kiss on her cheek.

            "Awful quiet t'day. Everything alright?" he asked. Satya turned her screen off for the day, and looked over at him.

            "Yes... everything's fine," she lied. He arched an eyebrow, but said nothing as he wheeled back. He reached into his own drawers, and pulled out the cuckoo clock.

            "Y'wanna' give this a go?" he asked as he carefully sat it on his messy desk. Satya smiled.

            "Of course, though I think there's more open space over here," she said, indicating her own station. Jaime wheeled back over, and she brought her tool case back out. Jaime wiped his grimy hands on a rag sticking out of his back pocket, and proceeded to study the clock. He began to pry the backing open with surprisingly steady hands, and Satya merely took a moment to watch his process.

            He was calm and focused; a side of him that she only managed to see in the workroom, and even then only sporadically. The antique clock seemed to delight Jaime. He peered at all of the gears, and tried to figure it out. How did it work? Why was it not working? What could be done to get it running?

            "Y'got somethin' f'the dust? And maybe a some more light? Can't see much..." he quietly asked. Satya obliged, pulling down a magnifying glass that was mounted to the table. She turned up the lighting around him, and handed him a rubber bulb syringe. He gave it a couple of squeezes at her nose, and the puffs of air tickled. A small giggle escaped her.

            "There we go! Got a smile outta' ya'!" he grinned.

            "You do seem to have quite a knack for it," she replied. He continued to grin while turning back to the clock, and proceeded to give it a delicate dusting. She looked over his shoulder to also study the device.

            "I've never worked on such antique technology before. I couldn't rightfully tell you where to start," she admitted. Jaime shrugged.

            "Yeah, ain't gonna' lie. This is a bit old, even f'me! But I think I see how it's all put t'gether. Now if I can just see how t'get the ol' girl tickin' again!" he said, poking around with one of the smaller screwdrivers.

            "Aw fuck! Think I found th'problem... few rusted out bits got all stuck. Yeesh! Nasty stuff. Don't know if I can fix it, t'be honest..." he said, and there was a touch of disappointment in his voice.

            "Are you able to remove the rusted parts?" Satya asked. He carefully went to work, taking the pieces apart, and pulling out the bad ones. They were rusted through and through, but she could still see the shape of them all, and that was all she really needed. She closed her eyes to help still her mind. _You need to say something to him..._ her eyes opened, and Jaime was staring at her.

            "You alright, love? Saw ya' tense up there," he remarked.

            "Sorry. I'm fine. Really..." she lied, and shoved the thought to the back of her brain. Satya closed her eyes again, stilled her mind, and reopened. She quickly wove her fingers over her palm. It was surprisingly difficult shaping parts so small, and sculpting wireframes so fine, but she managed. She set the constructs down in front of him.

            "Perfect!" he beamed, and proceeded to replace them. The replacement took considerably longer than the removal. Jaime was silent the whole time, and Satya watched. Occasionally, she'd point at a part that had been misaligned, or an area that could use some dusting. An hour or so later, Jaime placed the panel to close it back up. He gave it a test by pushing the hands around until it struck an hour. The little bird popped out of its door to chime the time.

            "Perfect!" he repeated, "Look at it! Got it running, gave it a good cleanin'. Y'know... we make a pretty good team, yeah?" Satya paused in thought.

            "Yes, I'd say we do," she replied. Jaime pulled a face, and the room grew incredibly quiet. _Tell him... say something... say ANYTHING!!!_ Yes, saying anything seemed like a good a good idea at that moment... so why did she have to say something so stupid? Her mouth opened, and the words just tumbled out.

            "Jaime, I'm your wife!" she awkwardly stammered. _No! Don't say it like that! Why did you say it like THAT?!_ She was fairly certain his eyes were going to pop out of his skull before they were replaced with a look of utter confusion.

            "I'm gonna' go out on a limb here an’ assume I'm missin' somethin'..." he observed. Satya would have laughed had it not been her who managed to say something so utterly idiotic.

            "My name... my new identity. Winston... I'm now Mrs. Nemali Templeton," she explained, hoping that didn't sound stupid either. He took some time to process her words.

            "Okay, so... when we're out on mission or off th'base, yer... Nemali now?" he asked. Satya nodded.

            "Yes. I am Nemali. And in public, apparently, I'm your wife," she repeated. She waited for him to once again process her words. His face was unreadable as his eyes darted to the floor, and then closed. The wait felt like a lifetime as she mentally prepared herself for him to hide behind humor, or lose his composure, or brush it off as nothing.

            "Is that... is that somethin' ya'd like?"

            Now it was her turn to process his question. He asked it with such honesty, and so openly. _Do not shut down. This needs to be discussed! Do not shrink away._ The fact was, she did not have a solid answer to that. Or at least, not at that time. _Maybe... maybe that's my answer._

            "Jaime... I don't... I don't know. I didn't expect any of this to happen. You, me... us. It wasn't something I'd ever prepared myself for," she finally said, her voice soft. When she looked into his eyes, she once again found herself unable to read the look on his face. There was a touch of relief, but also sadness in them. Then, his eyes once again darted to the floor in thought.

            "Y'say you ain't sure? Well... neither am I, y'know? But, y'got the name now. It's pretend, right? So... so let's pretend, yeah? We can pretend. Try it out. See if we like it? If we don't, don't mean we gotta' end this. Just maybe it is or isn't fer us, right? Don't know 'bout you, but I'm willin' t'give it a shot. How'za 'bout you?"

            Satya wondered if she'd ever not be at a loss for words, or if she'd ever not be surprised by Jaime's words and observations. Pretend? Well, it did at least seem like a logical solution. Neither was particularly sure, but they had an opportunity of sorts, and it did seem sound enough. Either way, it was too late to take back her words, and at least she had more time to think things over and come to some more solid conclusions. She realized she'd been drumming her fingers across her chin, and stopped. She took in a steadying breath.

            "Alright. I'm game. At least for the time being, we can be Mr. And Mrs. Templeton."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the fluff (Well, not really sorry. That's my bread and butter), but rest-assured! The drama/action train are coming down the track!


	57. Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. and Mrs. Templeton enjoy the first 2 weeks of their little experiment. Later, Winston has a meeting with the Junkers, and they are not pleased with what they are told. Our lovers realize there are still parts of each other to be discovered, and Satya prepares herself for a tense meeting.

            Two weeks. They had been married for two whole weeks. Well, pretend-married, anyways. Satya called it a test-drive, but Jaime didn't see too much of a change. He did notice her reading more. She suddenly became very self-conscious of anyone looking over her shoulder while she read from her tablet. It seemed she didn't want people to know what she was looking into. If they asked, she always told them something boring about architecture or engineering. Jaime wasn't fooled. He managed to finally sneak a peek at her tablet, and noticed the title: "Marriage: Is It Right For Me?". Another glance a few days later showed a different title: "Strong Marriages, and How to Build One".

            He never spoke to her about the books. If she wanted to research her options, who was he to stop her? Deep down, he found her reading encouraging. She wasn't simply humoring him. She was genuinely intrigued, and wanted to explore her options. She still wanted to keep it quiet overall, and this time around, he understood why. The team, while well-meaning, would probably chatter and gossip about it to the point that it'd feel like an absolute joke to her, and possibly even to him. And so they moved things along quietly and subtly. It started with him officially "moving in". 

            She managed to procure a new keycard for her room, so he wouldn't have to rely on her handing him the only one she had, or him possibly being locked-out. She told him it'd be best for him to bring over some of his closer possessions; the things he'd need from day to day. She put her foot down on his collection of antique grenades, despite telling her they were no longer active. She did, however, make a compromise. He could bring over his books, and add them to her small library (provided he cleaned them off). The toy mice she made him could sleep on the nightstand on his side of the bed. Other than that, no one seemed to notice his change in sleeping quarters. His own room became more of a personal storage and work space. He didn't mind too much, actually. He hardly went in there as it was. 

            And so the test-drive marriage continued in secret. The team went off on a small mission to disrupt another Talon supply run. It went without a hitch, which always put everyone in a good mood. Satya remained at the ship, overseeing the team's communications, and making sure everyone followed their orders. She seemed to enjoy being more of a communications coordinator over getting into the thick of things. He couldn't say he blamed her. 

            Jaime was, for once, one of the first people to arrive back at the ship. A small trail of smoke followed from the ends of his smoldering hair, and he wondered if he'd ever not manage to set himself ablaze in some fashion. Satya's nose wrinkled at the smell, and she quickly wet a cloth down to extinguish the glowing tips.

            "Oh! I see some new hair growth! The patches are starting to fill in!" she remarked. It had always been a sore-spot for Jaime. Radiation from the Outback tended to affect everyone differently, and for him it resulted in clumps of his hair falling out just after leaving Australia. He was by no means a vain man, but being only twenty-five and looking twice his age always seemed to hurt a little. Hana managed to style it enough to cover it up for the gala, but beyond that it was a constant reminder of his Junkertown days. He often wondered what Satya saw in him in the first place, but her comment about the new hair growth cheered him considerably.

            "Really?!" he beamed, and reached up to touch his scalp. Satya nodded, and gently moved his hand to the new patches starting to form. Winston called her away for a moment, and she handed him the cloth so he could continue to wipe himself down.

            Two weeks with a wife... what a life! She had ordered him new clothes and shoes. She took him with her to go shopping at the market in town so they could buy all of the ingredients they needed to make a dish for Reinhardt's birthday dinner. There, they presented him with the fixed clock, and the giant of a man wrapped them both up in a crushing hug. 

            Jaime pointed out that she could easily have added everything to the weekly supply list, but she insisted that they try shopping out. He'd been inside grocery stores and outdoor markets before, but usually it was to nick a couple things here and there. She made him carry the basket she brought along, and he was surprised to find just how enjoyable the simple experience was. He liked watching her look things over, and the care she took in selecting ingredients. Only the best would do, and he trusted her judgement on what was the best. 

            The rest of the team eventually made it back to the dropship. Mei managed to sustain a bullet graze, and Angela quickly patched her up (while Zarya doted on her hand and foot). The flight back took no time at all, but Winston spent most of it on a phone. As soon as the dropship landed, he told everyone to meet him in the briefing room. They didn't bother to unload, and made their way in immediately after landing. Winston came up to the podium again with a grin on his face. He began to launch into a debriefing of the mission; what went well (everything), what went wrong (Mei earning a bullet graze), and where the team could improve ("Perhaps a little less chatter on the commlinks. We're professionals, after all!"). Winston then proceeded to get to the heart of the meeting.

            "I just got off the phone, and am pleased to announce our newest recruit! Well, he's someone you're already familiar with, but Lució will now be a permanent fixture to Overwatch!" Winston announced. Most of the team seemed ecstatic at the announcement. Hana nearly popped out of her seat. Jaime's eyes darted to his side. To the untrained eye, Satya seemed fine. A little quiet, perhaps, but overall neutral. Jaime saw the muscles of her jaw clench. Her hands tightened over her knees. No. No, she was not fine. As soon as they were dismissed, he began to follow her out. No doubt she'd need some level of comforting, and a reminder that she no longer was a Vishkar employee, and thus had nothing to fear from Lució. Unfortunately, Winston had other plans. He tapped him on the shoulder, as well as Hog.

            "Gentlemen? I need to speak to you in my office," Winston ordered. Jaime flicked his eyes to Hog, who seemed a little perplexed as well. He hadn't spoken with either of them privately in quite some time. As soon as they sat down, Winston shut the door behind them. He laced his fingers together, and looked at them over his glasses.

            "We're getting close to the end of your contracts. Only three months to go," Winston started. Jaime nodded, as did Hog. _What's he gettin' at? Askin' us to renew or somethin'?_

            "When you two joined, I was rather apprehensive, but you seemed to fit in surprisingly well. You've established a good rapport with the rest of the crew, as well as friendships... and more," the ape continued, his head turning slightly in Jaime's direction. _Well, you're th'one who gave her th'new name! Why ya' lookin' at ME all funny?!_

            "In the beginning, we agreed in your contracts that exemplary service would earn you a clean record. In all honesty, that was the only reason I let you on in the first place... but I digress. I have been speaking with the ambassadors concerning the Recall. When they found out about you two being a part of the team, they grew rather... hesitant." Jaime and Hog sat a little more at attention. Winston's face was set, and unreadable.

            "I tried vouching for you two. I told them of many instances in which you proved yourselves to be dedicated and loyal. That being said, I had to make some compromises. If the Petras act gets repealed, we'll be a full-fledged program, not heroes for hire. They don't want the Recall to be associated with illegal actions. I will no longer be able to hire on new mercenaries. I also will not be able to renew current mercenary contracts," Winston stated. Jaime could feel his blood beginning to simmer. Hog folded his arms across his chest.

            "What... what're you sayin', mate?" Jaime stammered, trying to keep his composure. Winston blinked, keeping his jaw set.

            "I can't renew your contracts, and the only way I can have your records cleared is if you two sign on as permanent members. That means no premium commissions, and no leaving Overwatch. You'd be permanent fixtures to the team until you reach the age of retirement," Winston elaborated. It felt like a punch to the gut. It wasn't so much the money, but rather the lack of freedom. He and Hog had lived their lives doing as they pleased. They always had control in being, well, not in control. They were rovers... but, in the end, they were also wanted criminals. Jaime didn't have an answer. Hog remained silent.

            "I want you to know that I tried as best I could to keep things as they were originally planned. At the very least, you're still covered here through the rest of your current arrangement," Winston said, hoping to bring an end to the painful quiet. 

            Betrayed. That was how he felt. Not by Winston, but by his own ridiculous optimism. He'd convinced himself that Overwatch would be different. Unlike their deal in Dorado, this was a legitimate job with actual means to erase their records. How dare he try and hope for a fresh start? How dare he dream of being seen as anything more than a piece of trash that blew over from the Outback?

            But it wasn't a complete loss. He still had options. They both did. They both liked the work well enough, and the people around them. It was somewhere safe and secure. Even taking the mercenary bonus away, they still would be paid a relatively decent income. _But, it means I'll be stuck here... fer the rest of m'life. What if Satya doesn't wanna' stay? She ain't a merc. She can get her own contract r'newed. Pipsqueak, too. They can always leave if they find different jobs._ He also wondered if maybe there was some other way they could go about clearing their names, but frankly he didn't feel too confident in that idea. 

            "I don't need an answer right away. You have some time to think about it. I just need to know before your contracts wrap up," Winston stated. Jaime gave a silent nod, as did Hog. Winston opened the door back up, and dismissed them. In the past, he probably would have screamed and roared at Winston, and blame him for everything. He hadn't expected to change so much in less than a year. 

            Hog and Jaime walked away from Winston's office and head towards their respective rooms. As they hit the correct floor, they came out of the elevators. Jaime took a few steps towards Satya's room. _No. It's my room now, too._ He stopped in his tracks, and Hog paused before turning around to look at him.

            "Whatta' you thinkin' mate? Do we stay, or go?" Jaime asked. He prepared himself for Hog's usual answer whenever they reached a tough fork in the road. _He'll tell me I'm th'boss, and it's my decision, so I'm right back where I started._ Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered saying it in the first place.

            "I'm stayin', Jamison," Hog said. His voice didn't sound angry or sad. It was a matter-of-fact statement.

            "Yer thinkin' we should stay?" he asked. Hog didn't budge.

            "No. I'm tellin' ya that I'm stayin'. What you do is up to you," his friend replied. Jaime stared back at him.

            "You stay, you ain't leavin'," Jaime pointed out. Hog shrugged his shoulders.

            "Yeah. That's th'point," he quipped. A shadow of gloom seemed to shroud him, though he couldn't blame his friend. Hog was older. He was tired. A life on the run and surviving the wastes had taken its toll.

            "It ain't gonna' get better f'me, Jamison. It's m'last chance t'put Junkertown behind me. I can't make ya' stay. That's up t'you, but... I quit." And there they were; the words Jaime never expected to hear from him.

            "Mako, if I stay... what if she finds somethin' different? Decides she wants ta eventually leave it? I won't be able t'go. If I leave now, I can try ta figure it out. I can...". Hog gave a snort, interrupting him.

            "You leave; you'll be back t'runnin'. Y' know that, right? It'll just be like it was before, and you can kiss playin' house g'bye," Hog grunted. His interruption silenced Jaime.

            "I ain't stupid. I see you two. Yer pretendin'. Tryin' it out. S'nice. I think if yer doin' all that, then maybe I ain't th'one you should be talkin' to 'bout this," Hog pointed out. Jaime smirked.

            "Aw, whatta' you know? Ain't payin' ya' t'talk!" he sarcastically quipped. Humor had always been his go-to defense mechanism, but Hog was having none of it.

            "You ain't payin' me no more, so I'll say what I like. Don't be an idiot, Jaime... I'm goin' t'bed," Hog replied, and waved him off. Hog's words simmered in his mind, which was happening a lot within the last few months. He knew the conclusion he'd most likely take. He wasn't stupid. Staying would be his best option. He just had a hard time admitting it to himself. 

            He'd always thought they'd work a year or two, get their records cleared, and find somewhere to essentially lay low indefinitely. Perhaps, if they laid low long enough, then Talon wouldn't be able to find him. None of them would. _Christ! It's been so long! Maybe they don't even remember me at all!_ He got to the bedroom door, and swiped his keycard. His thoughts were shoved to the back of his brain, where they belonged.

            Satya was sitting on her side of the bed with her legs folded up in front of her. Her back was straight, but relaxed. Her hands nestled in her lap. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was slow and even. She called it meditating, and told him it helped her clear her mind. He didn't want to interrupt, but his peg leg clicked too sharply on the floor. She shook her head, as if rousing herself from sleep.

            "Oh! You're back! What did Winston want?" she asked. Jaime stifled a cringe, knowing it'd be the first thing she asked.

            "Nothin'. Just remindin' us about paperwork... You doin' alright?" he asked, changing the subject. He'd only caught her meditating a few times here and there, and it always seemed to happen after a particularly stressful day. She said it was an excellent way to decompress, and he had no doubt in his mind what she was stressing over. 

            "I am fine. I just... need to mentally prepare for his arrival later this week. Do not worry for me. I am sure Lució and I will be respectful of each other," she started, and her eyes scanned the length of him. "You look tense. Come lie down. I will rub your shoulders and back." She patted his side of the bed, and he complied. She helped him tug off his t-shirt, and he buried his face into his pillow. He could feel her straddle his lower back, and she began to massage his shoulders. It felt marvelous, and he couldn't stop himself from letting out a groan of pleasure. 

            Her hands worked downward, finding knots around his shoulder blades and more. She took a moment to focus on the tension in his neck, and even gave his head a bit of a rub. Her nails grazed his scalp. It was luxurious, and he never wanted it to end. Satya's hands stroked downward to the middle of his back, and the cool metal made his skin prickle.

            "Apologies. I have yet to find a way to keep my gauntlet at a set temperature," she commented. Jaime rolled underneath her legs so she was straddling his lap instead. He laced his fingers with hers; metal with metal, and skin with skin. He paused to look over the clean lines of her gauntlet entwined with the crude metal of his own construct. The glossy black enamel was already starting to chip. Bits of rusted orange poked through, and it reminded him that one could put as many coats of paint over the top as they wanted, but in the end it was still a pile of scrap. But it was incredibly useful scrap, and still a creation worth being proud of.

            "Jamison? Are you alright?" Satya asked. He couldn't bring it up to her. He wasn't ready to say the words that Winston had spoken. Not at that moment, anyways. He gently turned the wrist of her gauntlet to gain a better look at it.

            "Yeah. Just thinkin'... Love? How'd you lose yer arm?" he asked. Satya gazed at her gauntlet.

            "I didn't lose it. I sacrificed it," she replied.

            "What?" She made it sound as though it happened so peacefully and willingly.

            "Hardlight technology was still in its infancy. I began learning using a separate apparatus as a child and student. Gauntlets took a long time to perfect. The old ones were weak and unreliable. A prototype was created. Hardlight fascinated me. I loved everything about it. I loved having the power to bend reality to my will. I could do things with it that no one else could. I was convinced that hardlight was my purpose in life. And so, I was the first to volunteer to try the prototype..." she started. There was a flash of bitterness across her face, but it slowly washed away.

            "The prototype... it wasn't... perfected. There was an unexpected negative reaction. It damaged my arm and nerve endings, but it worked, Jaime. I saw the power it held. The abilities I would gain. So I chose to have my arm removed, and Vishkar created a gauntlet for me. As it is its own separate prosthesis, it can no longer damage my body, and I am free to do with it what I will." she continued. Jaime ran his metal thumb over the back of her glossy white cased hand.

            "And you? How did you lose your own arm and leg?" she asked. Jaime rolled his eyes.

            "Think that's a bit self-explanatory," he joked. Satya gave a bit of a sad smile, clearly wanting a bit more detailing.

            "I was muckin' 'round with new books. Learned a few things. I had a few successes. Made me feel good, so I got greedy. Wanted t'make somethin' bigger. Bigger than I ever tried b'fore. But I was stupid... had t'have a... well, a Junkertown-style doc hack off the bad bits. Thought that'd be it fer me. But I wasn't done with explosives. Not then. I learned m'lesson, and I never got cocky like that ever again," he said. Satya's eyes were wide with horror and shock, but she stopped to think about his words.

            "Hog once told me you never make the same mistake twice, but I do not see that as a mistake at all. You merely made a difficult sacrifice of your own, and in that, you have gained knowledge, wisdom, and a new respect for the forces with which you work," she stated. Her words had such impact, they practically left a crater in their wake.

            "But you... you sacrificed yours for Vishkar..." he stated. Satya shook her head no.

            "No. No I didn't. I sacrifice for my craft. I sacrificed for my skill. I sacrificed for my own purpose and happiness." Jamison would never cease to be amazed by her words and wisdom. Most people looked at him like he was a clown or an idiot, but not Satya. _You made a sacrifice for your own happiness. I'm gonna' have ta do the same._ And so he reached his decision. His mind was made up.

            "Penny for your thoughts," she mused. He looked back up at her, and cupped the side of her face with his good hand.

            "I was thinkin' bout how I wanna kiss ya," he grinned, and rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone.

            "I’d say that’s well worth a penny, and I will gladly oblige."

**.           .           .           .           .**

 

            _You have nothing to fear. You no longer work for Vishkar. He is a good person; else Hana would not speak so highly of him._ Satya stood outside of the hangar as Hana pulled in through the outer doors. Most of the team had congregated to welcome Lució back, though Hog and Jaime were already inside working on their motorcycle. The car doors opened, and Lució stepped out. He received hugs, handshakes, and friendly claps on the back. Even Jaime and Hog stopped what they were doing to welcome him back. She didn't find out until the lodge visit that Lució had come to Overwatch in her absence, and had rather endeared himself to the team. 

            He was all smiles and sincerity, which was never how he was depicted by her former employers. His fans and the people of Rio loved him. He was freedom fighter. Some even likened him to Robin Hood. And here she was, a servant of Prince John, ready to greet him. She admonished herself for once again referring to herself as a Vishkar employee. As Hana and Lució turned towards the exit to drop off his luggage, Satya shrank back. _I can't... I can't do this..._ She turned, and head down the corridor in hopes to vanish from their sights until she was better mentally prepared.

            "Sym! There you are!" Hana squeaked. Satya froze in place. She couldn't pretend to not hear them, and she wouldn't allow herself to be unprofessional. She turned around, and kept her face calm and collected, though her heart was absolutely pounding. Lució's face was equally calm, though there was a look in his eyes that spoke of a deep hurt. Satya's heart pound even further.

            "This is Lució! I know you probably recognize him already, but I thought it'd be nice for you two to have a proper introduction. Lució, this is Sym! Well, that's what I call her, anyways," Hana awkwardly began. _Be professional._ She held her hand out for a quick shake, like she had done so many times before at meetings, conferences, and networking events.

            "Satya Vaswani. Greetings," she responded. She hoped he wouldn't notice the sweat quickly forming on her palm. He took her hand and gave a firm but friendly shake. His eyes darted to the amended logo on her blouse. Where once a standard Vishkar white V lay was a freshly stitched Overwatch patch. Satya had found a box of them buried in a drawer of paperwork, and Winston gave her permission to use them.

            "So I finally get to put a face to the name! Good to meet you!" Lució beamed. The pain in his eyes seemed to dissipate, and was replaced by a genuine smile. He looked down at his luggage for a moment.

            "Aw no, Hana-Bun! Totally left my headphones in your car! Can I borrow your keys?" he asked. Hana shrugged, and set his small bag down. She fished the keys out of her pocket, and began to turn.

            "No worries! I'll go get it!" she said, either not noticing or purposefully ignoring Lució's deflection. _You are an adult! Be the bigger person here if you must!_ Satya stooped down, and grabbed the handle of his small bag.

            "I will escort you to your room, if you would be so kind as to follow me? Hana, when you retrieve his headphones, you can meet us there," Satya offered. Hana gave a thumbs-up, and head back to her car. Satya forced a smile to cover her nervousness, and tilted her head slightly in the direction to the men’s' dormitories.

            "I was told you'll be neighboring next to Hog. Sorry, Roadhog," she elaborated, but realized she needn't have. He'd already been there, and likely remembered the layout, as well as team member short-names. If Lució found it at all strange, he was kind enough to not show it. 

            "Alright! Got my temporary room for reals! Wonder if my pack of gum is still in the drawer!" he joked. He tightened his grip on his suitcase handle, and followed along. The whole experience was awkward, and she found her head whirling with different emotions. It reminded her slightly of Jaime's first day, when his toothy grinning face locked on hers and she felt an unexpected wave of... something wash over her. This was a different "something", of course. She didn't feel a surprising heat lance through her when she looked at Lució. The new member continued his slightly one-sided conversation.

            "Yeah, it'll be cool bein' neighbors with Hog and Rat again. He told me you two were an item last time I was here. You two still seeing each other?" he asked. Satya gave a nod.

            "Ah, yes. Yes, we are," she replied. Lució gave a nod of his own.

            "That's cool. Not surprised, though. He really seems to dig you," he nonchalantly observed. Satya felt a small smile briefly grace her face, and she tilted her head in thanks.

            "And the sentiment is returned," she assured him. They continued walking in silence, and while her heartbeat slowed down, she still felt uncomfortable, and unsure what to say. Fortunately, Lució broke the silence for her.

            "Tell me I'm not the only one here feeling weird and awkward," he nervously joked. The unexpected levity hit her too quickly for her professional facade to react. She let out a quick laugh, and then blushed at her own lack of control,

            "I'll take that as a yes!" he said, and once again chuckled nervously. Seeing him being so relatable slowly eased her sense of worry. _He is not to be feared. He is a good person. But, I still need to apologize._

"Lució... if we are to become team members, then I want us to start off on the right foot. I... I need to apologize... for everything. I did not personally take part in destruction of the favelas, but I knew... I knew and I did nothing. You don't have to forgive me, but I need to at least tell you this. I am sorry," she stammered. Lució was clearly at a loss for words. He took the time to work her apology over in his head, but once again a smile came to his face.

            "You didn't have to say anything, but it's cool. Apology accepted," he started, and slowly came to a stop in front of his door. Satya came to a stop of her own accord, amazed at how quickly he forgave her. He took a keycard out from a white envelope with Winston's handwriting on the front, and swiped it through the lock. The door slid open, and he passed through the threshold. Satya handed him his smaller bag.

            "I know it wasn't you who did it. I know... I know what Vishkar does to good people. Even their own employees. You're not there anymore, and you still apologize... You’re a good person. Besides, I already forgave you months ago!" he said, ending with a grin. Satya raised an eyebrow. Lució set his bags down behind him, and turned in the doorway.

            "You know? As a head of a non-profit, it's my job to oversee budgets and donations! Can't stay mad at my biggest donor now, can I?" he beamed. He waved goodbye, and closed the door. She blinked in confusion at the closed door, and ran Lució's last statement in her head. She turned around, and proceeded to head to her own room. _Well... that went considerably better than expected!_


	58. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. and Mrs. Templeton enjoy their "honeymoon". Later, Jaime, Satya, Hog, Hana, and Lucio work together for a simple surveillance mission. A few hiccups along the way lead to an unexpected end to the mission.

            "Jamison Fawkes! You get inside this instant, and finish your dinner!" the blonde haired woman shrieked out the kitchen window. Jaime wiped his nose with the back of his hand, and scowled. He squatted down, and scooped up his action figures before turning back and running to the back door. His mother was rather annoyed at him for sneaking out while she and his father watched the news, but he was utterly bored. How could he focus on food when he was busy saving the galaxy from mutated space pirates?

            Dinner was not to his liking. His mum made green beans. He hated those, but he wasn't allowed to have dessert unless he finished what was on his plate. His dad told him he had no right to be picky, and he should be thankful that he had anything on his plate at all. Jaime choked down the last few bites, which had grown cold, and tried to get the taste out of his mouth with his glass of milk. The anchor on the news channel started saying something about Omnics, and his dad started loudly cursing.

            "Bloody fuckin' Omnics! That's the Australian government for ya! Bowin' down t'those metal fucks! I'm tellin' ya, Margret! Whole damn country's gonna' fall apart th'way things are goin'!" his father growled. Jaime's mother sighed, but smiled when she looked over his clean plate.

            "There we go! That's not so bad, is it? Let me get you dessert!" she said, and a big toothy grin spread across his freckled face. His mother came back to the table with a plate wrapped in foil. She unwrapped it to show a slice of cake with vanilla frosting, and pink roses. Next to it were two plastic figures of men in tuxedos.

            "I saved you a slice of cake from Mr. Powell and Mr. Dean's weddin'! They even let me keep th'toppers so you can play with 'em!" his mother smiled. Jaime grabbed his fork and tucked in, but looked at the figures, slightly confused.

            "They got married?" he asked between heaping bites. Mr. Powell and Mr. Dean were two very friendly men who lived in the house two streets over. Sometimes they’d come over and keep an eye on him when his parents were out. His mother nodded.

            "Yes. They love each other very much, so they decided to get married," she explained. Jaime shrugged, and appraised his two new toys.

            "I'm gonna' make 'em spies!" he happily chirped through the frosting covering his face. His mum chuckled.

            "Spies? What about those two? The captain and his first mate?" she said, indicating his other two grubby figures. Jaime pointed at them.

            "That's Captain Blaze! He can shoot fireballs! And that's Captain Whirlpool! She can move water with her mind!" he explained. His mother smiled, and smoothed back his wild shock of blonde hair while he shoveled in another bite of cake.

            "Two captains?" she asked, slightly surprised. Jaime shrugged as if it made perfect sense.

            "Yeah! They're partners an' best friends. They're always there t'make sure the other one is okay!" he elaborated. The answer seemed to make his mother happy. He snagged the last bite with his fork, and wolfed it down.

            "I think that's nice... oh, but you are filthy! Alright, little man! Time you had a bath!" she ordered. Jaime scowled, and folded his arms.

            "Don't wanna'" he grumbled. His father looked over the back of his armchair.

            "Boy, you listen to yer mum! Get in that tub, or I'll drag ya there m'self!" his dad warned. Jaime scowled again, but did as he was told. His mother grabbed his toys, and handed them to him.

            "Better give them a wash, too. How's a hero supposed t'save the world when they're covered in dirt?". Jaime took his figures from her, and grumbled some more as he made his way to the tub.

            "Some heroes LIKE dirt!"

**.           .           .           .           .**

 

 

            Jamison woke up in the swankiest hotel in the ritziest part of the city, which locals referred to as 'The Oasis'. He was not alone. The sheets rustled next to him. Sandalwood perfume wound its way around him. Satya rolled over, and opened her eyes. She gave him a soft smile, and his heart melted.

            "Good morning," she quietly greeted. Jaime smiled back.

            "Mornin', love," and he leaned towards her to give her a peck on her forehead.

            "Breakfast?" she asked, and he nodded. The night before had been utterly dynamite. They'd been apart for a week and a half, and that was far too long for his liking. The past two months had been an interesting experiment. Satya took on more of an administrative role, and was hardly in the workshop anymore. It was sad at first, but he soon learned that a little time to himself wasn't entirely a bad thing. He'd wake up next to her. They'd get ready, have breakfast, and then part for the day to go to their respective "jobs". Often, they would share lunch in the mess hall before returning for more work, and they'd end their days together with dinner and bed. A routine had been established, and he found he enjoyed that part the most.

            Satya spent most of her time helping Winston. She was often found leaving the conference room, or on her phone. This did not stop her from continuing her physical training for missions. Pharah made everyone take lessons in hand-to-hand combat. Jesse became a weapons and side-arms instructor. Reinhardt and Zarya teamed up for weight-lifting and strength-building exercises. Angela gave lessons on first-aid, and Lució volunteered to be her assistant.

            It seemed most everyone wanted to play teacher. Torbörn offered demonstrations in machine repair and trouble-shooting. Jaime attempted to be his assistant for one of the lessons, but the pair ended up squabbling too much to be an effective duo. Mei established a better recycling and waste-management program, while Satya offered her advice in quick-thinking and observational intelligence. It was fascinating to hear her speak, and walk everyone through her thought-process, but he had a hard time believing he'd ever be able to hone in on such small details.

            Satya sat up in bed, shaking him from his memories. She grabbed the phone, and proceeded to order them room service. Slowly, she pulled the sheet back, and stepped out to stretch before grabbing a hotel robe to cover her nakedness. Jaime frowned.

            "Aw, y'had t'go ruin it!" he said with forced annoyance. Satya turned and gave him a wink.

            "I can't open the door naked now, can I?" she pointed out. Jaime shrugged.

            "Bet the bloke with th'food wouldn't mind none!" he grinned. Satya once again smirked, and walked over to the foot of the bed. She started untying the silk straps at the two corners.

            "I enjoyed these, by the way. This was a good purchase," she noted. Jaime grabbed the blindfold and wrist cuffs off his nightstand and handed it to her. He had picked them up as a surprise right before leaving Gibraltar, and was curious to see if she had any interest in trying some things out. The experiment was a success. She was VERY interested.

            "Yeah? Liked 'em m'self. Wanna' try it again t'night?" he asked with a tempting lilt. She bent down and kissed his forehead.

            "Sadly, not tonight. We have that pesky mission we have to contend with," she reminded, and gave a heavy sigh. Jaime started to get up, and pull on his clothes: a pair of boxers (those weren't as constricting as the briefs Hana made him wear for the gala), a clean pair of jeans tailored for his leg, and a clean t-shirt covered in frogs from Lució's last tour. A short time later, a knock came to the door, and the hotel employee wheeled in a cart with their breakfast. He transferred it to the small dinette table before leaving. Satya tipped the man, and when the door was shut, she proceeded to bring the tray over, and sat it at the foot of the bed.

            Breakfast in bed felt a bit indulgent to him, but he enjoyed it none the less. Satya told him it would make their cover seem more believable. She and Winston had been away speaking with the UN to start the process of repealing the Petras Act, and then they flew directly to Iraq to meet up with the rest of the team. There, she and Jaime checked into the hotel under the cover of being newly married and on their honeymoon. They were very convincing in their roles. 

            "Does Rat have pants on this time?" Hana's voice drifted from her tablet. Satya rolled her eyes, and grabbed the device off her nightstand. Hana's face stared back in the video chat window.

            "Yes, he is. Apologies for last night. I didn't mean to switch it to camera-chat," she explained. Hana and Lució were also staying in the same hotel under the guise of promoting their latest album. Hog took on the role of their bodyguard, which he was rather adept at anyways. No one questioned the hulking man following behind the pop star and DJ, though it was rather comical seeing him sport white bunny ears on top of his leather pig mask. Hana said it was for brand recognition.

            "So how did the UN meeting go?" Hana asked. Satya leaned the tablet against the silver plate cover so she’d be able to enjoy both her breakfast and conversation. She shrugged in response to Hana.

            "Fairly well, I'd say. They were hesitant at first, concerning how old our intel was, but the ambassadors working with us assured them that we could verify the data, which is why today's mission, while merely surveillance, is so important," Satya explained. Jaime never imagined he would be a spy. The closest he ever got to actual spy work was trying to figure out security details for another heist. He gazed over Satya, still wrapped up in just her robe. The bottom hem had slid open a touch, revealing her thighs. Spy work certainly had its perks.

            "Yeah, I just checked on the target's flight. Should be arriving on time. If he's coming straight to the hotel, he'll be here in about four hours," Hana informed. Satya nodded, and sipped her tea.

            Her work with the UN was mostly conducted in secret. She was still technically presumed dead, and operated under her fake identity. They understood the nature of her secrecy, given the developments with her former employer. The ambassadors often met with them in secret for her benefit, with Winston acting as the public spokesperson. After all, it was difficult for one to hide in anonymity when one was a talking gorilla.

            Hana was correct. It was almost four hours on the dot when the target walked through the hotel. He approached the concierge desk just as Hana and Lució came down into the lobby. The sudden appearance of celebrities, of course, drew the attention of everyone around them, and Jaime watched as Satya slid up next to their target to slip an impossibly small tracker in his pocket. The thing was only about the side of a grain of rice, but could also record and transmit location and audio. Jaime gave her a wink to let her know that no one had noticed, and she backed up a touch to gawk at the two pop stars. When Hana and Lució (with Hog's help) finally managed to push past the throngs of people, they hopped in a car and headed out to temporarily rendezvous with the rest of the team at the dropship. Satya's work, however, still wasn't finished.

            The pair waited and listened in from her tablet as the target came to his room, dropped off his luggage, and eventually left. From there, the real spy work began. Jaime kept an eye on hotel staff and people passing by so she could sneak in utilizing her photon projector. What had once been nearly the means of their destruction was now a useful tool. Satya took it as her own, and even made a few modifications. Despite the new powerful weapon at her side, it was rather nerve wracking for him. _What if I miss somebody? What if she gets ambushed?!_ He focused all his attention on his surroundings. _All th'more reason t'focus!_

            "The briefcase has been bugged. Am I safe to exit?" she asked over her ear-piece. Jaime's own new earpiece was incredibly subtle and delicate, and no one seemed to notice the man talking to himself.

            "All clear, love!" he reassured. They met back up in the lobby just as the target made his way back.

            "Pharah said over th'headset he's plannin' t'go ta dinner at that fancy place over by th'gardens," Jaime whispered. Satya gave the briefest nod, and let out a forced giggle as though his whispered message were something mildly inappropriate. As they came closer to the target, she turned and looked at him.

            "Well, MISTER Templeton, where shall we go for dinner tonight?" she asked, her voice deliberately loud enough for the target to overhear. Jaime grinned.

            "Well, MISSES Templeton, I say that decision's up t'you!" he answered back. The man looked up from the newspaper in his hand, and finally took notice.

            "Ah! Newlyweds, I take it?" The target was Alejandro Gomez; a former employee of Lumerico, and once upon a time, an assistant of Guillermo Portero. He was a touch taller than Satya, though stocky. Salt and pepper graced his temples. His mustache was thick, though well-groomed. Satya gave a nod, and a sweet smile tinged with excitement.

            "Yes. Well, we had our wedding two months ago, but we had to delay our honeymoon," she answered. The target nodded along to her explanation.

            "Better late than never! And if you're needing a recommendation, there's an excellent restaurant down the road. I'll be heading there myself in just a moment. It's called Jasmine. The food is superb, and they have an excellent wine selection," he suggested. Satya's eyes lit up.

            "Thank you! That sounds perfect. Remy? Is that something you'd be interested in?" she innocently asked. _Love, you are SO good at this spy shit!_ Jaime nodded.

            "Sounds good t'me, love!" he grinned. They waited for the target to leave, and followed shortly after. Lena, who was waiting back on the dropship, told them the tracker had indeed made its way to Jasmine. They were able to procure a table, though Jaime's blood began to boil from the moment they walked in. He hadn't mentioned the restaurant was run by Omnics. His fingers curled tightly around the menu as their waiter-bot went to get them glasses of water. Satya gently placed her hand over his.

            "I need you to tell me now if you're able to focus on the mission. If not, I may need you to leave. Will this be a distraction?" she quietly asked. Jaime's eyes darted around, eyeing all the wait staff, but Satya was right. He had to focus. He couldn't let his hatred get in the way. It would only put them in danger, and he couldn't allow that to happen. Not when she was with him. He shook his head no.

            "I'll behave," he promised, and lord, was it ever a tough promise to keep. He tried studying the menu.

            When Winston gave them all their aliases and the parts they'd play in the mission, he had been rather confused. He didn't know what the word "honeymooners" meant, and he had been too embarrassed to ask anyone on the team. He had spent a few good hours borrowing Satya's tablet to research his role, and the whole thing became rather overwhelming. Proposals, showers, bachelor and bachelorette parties, weddings, vows, honeymoons? It all seemed like a rather large production to him. Who actually went through with all of that? Wasn't marriage alone enough for anyone? He was all for a big party to celebrate, but what was with all the extra bits? He brushed those thoughts away, and decided he'd try the roast duck for dinner.

            During dinner, Satya leaned in close to his ear to whisper something here or there; the things she could overhear in her earpiece connected to her earrings, messages from her phone, and orders from Winston coming in. To ease confusion, she was the only one he spoke to through the earpieces. At one point, Satya's eyebrows darted upwards.

            "Oh! He's talking about... us! ... It seems we are quite convincing. He referred to us the "sweet newlyweds"... oh, and he's ordering a bottle of champagne and desserts sent our way! Act surprised!" she whispered, and pulled back giving him a mischievous grin, in case anyone wondered what they were talking about. _Alright, now yer just enjoyin' this!_

            A few moments later, a waiter came by with a bottle in a silver bucket of ice, two flutes, and 2 slices of a delicate-looking torte. The bot then proceeded to point towards Alejandro's table, and told them that he was the one who sent over the surprise. Satya smiled with genuine delight, and Jaime waved with a big cheesy grin. The waiter popped the bottle open, and poured them each a glass. As soon as he was gone, they clinked their glasses, and enjoyed a few sips.

            The whole facade felt so unnatural to Jaime, but he found a way to deal with it. He separated himself from his alias. Junkrat was a rough and dirty criminal from the wastes of the Outback, Remy Templeton was a sophisticated Suit who did, well... Suit-stuff, and Jamison Fawkes floated somewhere in between. 

            It was somewhere in between another sip of champagne that Satya's eyebrow lowered just a touch. Her eyes darted towards the target's table, and though she calmed herself back down, something was very clearly amiss.

            "The target is not doing the exchange here... Blast! The recording part of the bug stopped working!" she quietly hissed. Jaime rubbed his chin, but didn't want to seem too obvious, so he scratched at his jaw instead.

            "What's th'plan, then?" he asked. He didn't like it. Not one bit. They were supposed to wait for him to bring some form of payment in exchange for some sensitive information. It had smacked too much of the deal with Vishkar, and he himself had to know just who was behind the leaks. Was it... _her_? The person the target met with didn't exactly look like a hacker. At least, not the type of hacker _she_ was. In reality, he looked like any other Suit, though he supposed the man could have been in disguise, much like him.

            "We're to follow, but at a distance. We need to ensure the exchange is made. Hana will be by in a few minutes to pick us up. After that, we'll rendezvous at the dropship, and from there see what Winston says," she explained. Jaime nodded, and pulled some cash from his wallet to settle the bill. Minutes later, Hana's car pulled up, and they stepped in. Hana kept an eye on her tablet.

            "Sound's not working, but the tracker is. They're not too far ahead of us. Lucio? Turn right at the next light," Hana informed.

            "On it!" Lució replied. Hana continued to navigate as the dot on her map twist and turned down side-streets, eventually working towards the edges of the city.

            "The target has stopped moving. Looks like it's a cafe. Sym! What does Winston say? Do we go in?" Hana asked. Satya listened to their superior over her earpiece. She gave a small nod, and looked up.

            "Winston says you two are to create a distraction. I will slip in as witness, and Jaime and Hog will remain around the corner as back-up, should we run into any trouble," Satya explained. Jaime gave a nod, but wasn't feeling particularly confident about his role. He didn't like the idea of sending Satya inside, where she was no longer in his sights; not when everything took such an unexpected turn. _No. No, she's good at this. This is what she does. She knows what she's doin'. She's been kickin' ass these past two months. She's got this!_  

            Still, it wasn't just Satya he was worried about. While everyone took weapon training with Jesse, he and Hog were only marginally better shots than they were before. They had side-arms, they had plenty of ammunition, but what he wouldn't give for his grenade launcher at that point. And Hana and Lució? Lució was fast, but small. Could he handle himself if a fight broke out? Hana was a decent shot, but she was also small, and it wouldn't take much for somebody to overpower her. _Mate, relax. It's just a cafe. Even if shit does go south, ain't enough people t'worry 'bout._ He took in some breaths to steady his nerves. It seemed Satya's courses in observational awareness and critical thinking actually were starting to rub off on him.

            The trio left the vehicle. He and Hog waited until they entered the cafe before they slipped out, and hid in the alley behind. There, they had access to the back door of the cafe, and could make a surprise entrance should the need arise. Jaime took his piece out, checked the clip to ensure it was fully loaded, and clicked it back in place. Hog rummaged in his pocket, and tossed him an extra clip.

            "Don't feel right," Jaime muttered, mostly to himself. Hog shrugged.

            "I got used ta' shit goin' tits-up with you. I just always assume I'm gonna' have t'come bail yer ass out. Least it's different asses this time," Hog joked. Jaime snorted, but couldn't shake the uneasy feeling. He fiddled with his earpiece.

            "Love... be careful in there... please," he quietly instructed.

            "I always am," she reminded, and he could tell she was sporting a reassuring smile, even if he couldn't see it. Hog and Jaime remained quiet in the alley as they listened to their headsets at what was happening.

            "Hana and Lució have created quite a diversion. They're... good gods! They're... oh, what's the phrase? Making out! Everyone is too busy looking at them... I see the target... he's still trying to find the man from earlier. I don't see him, either," she nearly whispered. It was difficult to hear her with the background noise of idle chatter and espresso machines and grinders whirring. Jaime's pulse quickened.

            "Ah! There he is... alright, they're sitting down with coffees... they're talking. I can't tell what is being said, but neither seems to be agitated... and... we have it! Confirmation of exchange being made. Whomever the man is seems to be deleting something off... off a black tablet! Just like the one from Sanjay's office!" Satya hissed. Jaime's stomach dropped. _Oh! Oh we snagged somethin' big!_ In the months since the incident on the rooftop, not much progress had been made regarding the Vishkar investigation. The board members merely remained under house-arrest as the trials kept meeting “delays”. No one seemed to know who the hacker was, nor could they trace the tablet. The only person who could have given answers was dead (not that Jaime had a problem with that, mind you), and plenty of questions remained unanswered.    

            Lost in thought, Jaime was too busy listening to Satya and her surroundings. He didn't pay attention to his own. In the dark of the back alley, several hissing shots were fired, and Hog gave a groan. Jaime whipped his head around to see several darts in his friend's neck and side. He slowly dropped to the concrete.

            "Aw fuck!" Jaime shrieked. He frantically looked everywhere for the shooter, but saw nothing. Two more shots hissed, and he felt them imbed into his own neck and shoulder. Immediately, his movements became slow. His head swam, and his vision began to blur. He could feel himself slowly falling.

            "Jaime?! Jaime, what's happening?" came Satya's worried whisper over his earpiece. He fell to the ground, and looked up. There was a brief shimmer, and suddenly something materialized as if from nothing. There she was. Her dark hair ended in streaks of purple, her smiling lips were painted to match, and her sharp eyebrows framed sinister eyes. _Fuckin' no! NO!_

            "Nighty night, pendejo!"


	59. Chapter 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team has to convince their new UN contact to approve their rescue mission, and Satya is determined. Jaime wakes up in an unfamiliar cell, and has a little chat with his captor.

            "Mmmmm... you smell good..." he quietly groaned as he inhaled deeply from the top of her head. Satya was certain his eyes weren't even open. Jaime had woken early to see her off for her trip to the UN with Winston. He blundered into the water closet donning just his boxers, and wrapped her in a hug from behind. She grinned a bit to herself, and capped her lipstick. It didn't make sense to put any on when she knew it was about to come off in a few seconds.

            "It's the perfume," she mused. Jaime shook his head, and groaned a no.

            "You haven't put any on yet. You just always smell good." Jaime pulled his nose away from her scalp for a moment. His eyes were finally open, and he paused to look at her dressed in her jacket and pencil skirt. Satya needed to look as professional as possible, and so she had to become one of the things Jaime despised; a Suit. With her, however, he didn't seem to mind.

            "Love... y'know why I did it, right? Had to," he murmured, once again burying his face in her hair at the top of her head. Satya stilled her breath, but gave an encouraging smile.

            "I told you last night that I did. Jaime... I'm glad you made your decision, and that you stand by it. I'm... I'm proud of you," she admitted, and she truly was.

**.           .           .           .           .**

 

            Satya ran out into the alley as quickly as possible. Hana and Lució lingered behind just long enough to make things look unsuspicious. She looked around and above her. There was no one in sight. She didn't have her weapon on her, and she was torn. If she ran to the car, that would only cost more time, but who knew what lay beyond the corner? She brought up a shield just as she rounded the building... but there was nothing.

            Her heart raced so much at the thought of what she might find, but 'nothing' didn't make her list of outcomes. No Jaime. No Hog. Nothing that belonged to their person. The alley mocked her with its emptiness. She shook her head in disbelief, and then immediately started scanning for any sign of who took them, and HOW! The alley continued to not yield answers, until she looked down. There was some sort of small device on the ground. It was cased in lightweight metal. What it did, Satya wasn't sure. It seemed to be a onetime-use sort of item, as part of the circuitry look fried beyond repair. She picked it up to examine it. She'd never seen anything like it before. _Jaime... oh Jaime, what happened to you?!_ Hana and Lució came sprinting down the alley.

            "Oh god! Where are they?!" Hana rushed, looking everywhere. Satya gave a worried shake of her head, and Hana covered her mouth in horror. Lució crouched down, and squinted. He was looking for traces of blood. Satya increased the light from her gauntlet to help him scan, but again, nothing was found.

            "We need to get back to the dropship!" she ordered, choking back the tears that were forming. They quickly ran to the car, and Hana nearly put her foot to the floor while Satya rushed through to Winston what had happened. Winston was first shocked, and then enraged. He roared into the headset. Satya knew they were only a few miles off into the desert, and that it was unlikely for him to calm down in the short amount of time it would take them to get there.

            Winston had barely waited for them to pull Hana's car into park before he came thundering up to them. He held a tablet in front of him. His jaw was set and his eyes blazed, though he at least wasn't roaring anymore. Satya jumped out of the car, and she immediately began to follow behind. No words were needed. They ran onto the main deck of the ship, where the rest of the team congregated.

            "Alright, so here's what just happened. Twenty-five minutes ago, our surveillance team followed the target to a cafe on the outskirts of the city, where we lost momentary contact, and then, in that time, two of the team gave a distress call, and vanished without a trace. The tracker placed within the briefcase also stopped responding." The deck was silent, and Winston growled in the back of his throat.

            "Can they be traced via their earpieces?" Mei started. Lena pointed at one of Athena's translucent screens, where a map was brought up.

            "We did for just a moment. They blipped out, and we thought they were gone, but then they popped back up a few miles east, and kept goin'. They must have destroyed their ear pieces then, because we lost their signal," she explained. Satya stared at the map, and shook her head.

            "How, though?" Jesse asked. Satya began to fumble into the pocket of her handbag, where she had stashed the device from the alley.

            "That's the thing, love. The way they just... zipped? It registered like my accelerator, or maybe one of Sym's teleporters, and..." she started. Satya held the item up.

            "They used this! At least, I'm fairly certain. I found it in the alley, where they were ambushed. Winston took the lump of parts, and examined it closely. He gave a snort of disbelief.

            "I've never seen anything like it! It's... somewhere in between! Both a chronal accelerator, AND a teleporter!" he stated, and looked back up.

            "Alright. That explains the how. Now we need to figure out the who, the where, and the why," he said.

            "The target! He exchanged his briefcase for a tablet that matched the one in Sanjay's office! It's the hacker! Or at least, the group the hacker is working with," Satya suggested. Winston gave a nod. It was no coincidence. _But why Jaime and Hog?!_ Surely the rest of the group would also have been targeted.

            Her chest ached with worry. She wanted to cry and scream, but what good would that do? It wouldn't help the situation. It wouldn't bring them back, nor solve her problems. She compartmentalized her fear, and took solace in numbness. If she did that, at least her head would be clear enough to hopefully find a solution. She caught Hana staring at her. Her friend was silently crying, but she saw Satya's face, took a deep breath, and tried to focus. Hana’s brow furrowed in concentration, and she seemed to have an epiphany.

            "MY LIL-BOY!" she shouted. Winston gave her a puzzled look.

            "What?" Winston asked, thoroughly confused.

            "Hog was holding onto my hand-held for me! My Lil-Boy! They're one of my sponsors! But yeah, Hog had it in his pocket! I have it synced with my phone! Can we track that?!" Hana rushed. Satya's eyes brightened with hope. Winston tilted his head, and gathered his thoughts.

            "I suppose it's worth a try. Perhaps they wouldn't notice a device like that, or hadn't checked them for personal belongings just yet. Can I see your phone?" Hana dug into her pocket, and tossed her phone to Winston. He took a look, and scrolled though.

            "The app that says LB! That's my personal account! There should be a 'lost and found' option that can locate your Lil-Boy if you lose it!" she explained. Winston clicked away, and held it up.

            "It says In-Transit! Hana! You're a genius!" Winston exclaimed, and lumbered over to the command console. _Thank the gods! Hana!_ He plugged her phone in, and brought the little map up on another screen. Satya rushed forward and looked at the map it displayed. Nothing was coming up at first.

            "Athena! Lock on to this signal!" Winston shouted. A moment later, the computerized voice replied.

            "Signal locked. Target is in transit," the computer's voice reiterated. Winston studied the screen.

            "They must be in the air. They're not appearing on any map..." he murmured mostly to himself. Satya clenched her hands into fists.

            "What do we do?" she asked, keeping her voice alarmingly steady. Winston rubbed his chin.

            "We need to contact Ambassador Camden. We can't proceed without his approval," he replied. That was not to Satya's liking.

            "Approval for what?! They're team members, and they have been taken!" Satya snapped. _Every moment we waste takes them farther away!_ Jesse laid a hand on her shoulder.

            "Sorry Sym, but Camden won't see it that way. We're finally funded, and he might not want us spending resources on..." Jesse stopped for a moment while gauging the fury in her eyes. "... on a mission where we don't know what we're getting ourselves into!"

            The cowboy clearly changed his wording for her benefit, but she acknowledged that he was right about that. Though she wanted to desperately rev the engines and take off to find them, they simply couldn't. Athena couldn't properly lock on the signal until they came to a stop, and with virtually no clue as to who took them, or why, they couldn't even attempt an educated guess.

            "I know... it's just..." she started, and cursed at herself for being so reckless. That wasn't like her. She was Satya Vaswani! She was smart, level-headed, and preferred thorough investigation and planning. But this was different. Two of their own crew had been taken. Lives she personally knew were on the line. _Hog... oh gods! Jaime! No! I can't be rash! I cannot save them if I run head-first without looking where I am going!_ Jesse gave her shoulder another squeeze.

            "It's alright, darlin'. Ain't the first time this has happened. We'll get 'em back!" he reassured. Satya gave a nod in thanks, and breathed to calm herself back down. Winston continued to contact the ambassador, and a man's face finally came up over one of the screens. He seemed to be in his office. He spoke in a hushed tone.

            "Ambassador Camden," Winston greeted.

            "Doctor Winston. Ms. Vaswani, and crew..." he hesitantly greeted in kind. The ambassador seemed to be slightly agitated by the stone faces of the crew standing behind their superior. Satya wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. Of all the ambassadors, Camden was the one she'd personally worked with the most, and the pair had rather high regards for each other. 

            "We seem to have run into a bit of... trouble on our current mission," Winston announced, keeping his tone low, but serious. The man adjusted his glasses a touch. Chestnut hair gave way to a graying beard, and his mouth held firm for a moment.

            "I thought you said in your last report this was to be a simple surveillance mission... what happened?" he asked.

            "Two of our team waited as back-up, but were ambushed and captured. We wish to pursue, and bring them back, with your permission," Winston stated. Camden laced his fingers together, and gave everyone a glance-over.

            "Who took them?" he asked.

            "We're not sure. We speculate it was someone working in conjunction with the person our target was meeting with," Satya cut in. Winston gave her the teleporter-like piece of technology, and she held it up.

            "We're confident they used this device. We may have a possible lead on where they're going," she added. Camden continued to scan the crew, and Satya's stomach began to roil. She knew what the next question would be, and she knew the likely response he'd have after hearing their answer.

            "Who was taken?" Camden asked. Winston pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

            "Fawkes and Rutledge," he answered. Camden looked over his own glasses.

            "I see. The... mercenaries..." _No! No, I will not allow this._

            "They have both agreed to sign on as permanent members when their current contracts are up," Satya cut in. A hushed whisper drifted over the team. Neither had made their official announcement, but she knew. Jaime told her just before they parted a week and a half ago. The words were softly spoken into the top of her head as she packed her suitcase all those days ago. _"I love ya, Satya, but I gotta' do this. You understand, right?"_ Yes. Yes, she understood, and at that time, she was pleased. She also found at that moment, she still was. He told her that Hog was staying too, and she was happy for their friend. Camden, however, didn't seem impressed.

            "Be that as it may, it shouldn't come as a shock to anyone that they may have enemies of their own," Camden pointed out. Winston shook his head.

            "No. This can't have been coincidence!" Winston replied. Camden seemed to be mulling his decision over, and Satya felt sickened. _They're... they're people! They're human beings!_ In the end though, she wasn't entirely surprised. Though they had made strides to move beyond their pasts, the fact was they were still seen as "Junkrat" and "Roadhog", and there were plenty of people who certainly wouldn't mind the unfortunate fate that had befallen them.

            "And they're not expendable. Not to the Recall, not to the team, and not to me!" she stated. Her eyes blazed, and she was in no mood to drag this on further. Professional though she was, she would not lose Jaime and Hog to bureaucratic foot-dragging. Camden eyed her warily. 

            "You misunderstand, I believe. I don't want to send the Recall team out on a mission ill-prepared. Though I have no doubt in your team's skill, you are still a small organization. I'd hate to see you waltz into a trap. Perhaps, if your numbers were greater..." he started, and to Satya's utter surprised, Pharah stepped forward.

            "Helix once proudly worked alongside Overwatch. I think it would take little effort to convince them to fly out once more," she offered. Satya's mouth hung open for only a moment before snapping back shut. Pharah turned, and gave her a small nod. _Pharah… I have no words, but I thank you from the bottom of my heart._

            "Alright, that settles it. When their location is found, and the threat is properly accessed, I will grant permission. Until then, keep me informed as to Helix's response," Camden finally accepted. The tight knot of worry that had nestled in Satya's stomach eased significantly, though it was still present. Winston wrapped up their discussion, and the screen went blank. He began to bark orders to the team, though Satya barely heard them.

            _Jaime... the day has come. Know that I am ready to fight for you as you have fought for me..._

_...please be alive..._

**.           .           .           .           .**

Jaime woke up on a cold concrete floor. His eyesight was still blurry, no matter how hard he tried to focus. His head still swam. He shut his eyes, and tried to concentrate. Sombra's face loomed in his memories. _Sombra... you tricky bitch!_  Panic began to set in as more of his memories flooded back. _Fuck! Hog?! Where's Hog?!_  His vision grew a touch sharper, but there was no sign of his friend. Another pang of panic sliced through his heart. _SATYA! Pipsqueak! Lució! Oh fuck! Ohfuckohfuckohfuck!_ They had all been in the cafe when Sombra got the drop on them. 

            He didn't know how she did it. Sombra was crafty, and had plenty of tricks up her sleeve. Apparently, invisibility was one to be added to the list. If he were to be honest with himself, he wasn't entirely sure WHY Sombra took him and (likely) Hog. Last he remembered, SHE was the one who screwed HIM over, but that little fact must have slipped her mind. In the end, it didn't really matter. Sombra was not a person to trifle with, and she loved making powerful connections.

            Jaime's vision finally came back to focus. He scanned the room he was in. It appeared to be an old jail cell. There was a crude "toilet" of sorts in one corner, a rusted cot with a ragged stained mattress, and little else. Surprisingly, there were no bars to stop him, but he was no fool. He took a piece of chipped concrete and tossed it at the opening. It smacked into an invisible wall with a small zap. It also looked like it would hurt like hell to test on himself, so he didn't push it.

            Sombra was smart enough to take his peg leg and arm, which meant she intended for him to stay a while. If she had wanted him dead, she could have done that easily enough back in the alley. No, Sombra had a plan... and that's what really scared him. He scooted on his backside towards the entrance to his cell, and leaned against the cinderblock frame. He slowly managed to pull himself up, and continued to lean. He turned towards the seemingly empty block of identical cells. He couldn't see anything from his angle, though he thought he could make out a rhythmic wheeze.

            "Hog! You here? Can't see nothin'! You alive, mate?" he hissed. There was a weak groan, and a heavy breath.

            "Here... Can't... talk... Took... breather..." he managed to huff and wheeze. Rat's face fell. Hog couldn't move without his breather. The Outback left his lungs weak and vulnerable, but the breathing apparatus kept the air clean enough for him to handle. _Fuckin' bitch! What's she 'fraid of?!_ In a way, he couldn't blame her. It was the easiest way to keep Hog subdued, and she knew it.

            Before he could say another word to Hog, a door slid open. He couldn't see much at first, but it sounded like a few people. Three, at least. Their feet clunked along the floor, save for one set of softer steps padding through. _Sombra!_ They came down the corridor of the cellblock, stopping for a moment to peer into Hog's cell. Sombra gave a bit of a chuckle.

            "Take it easy, big guy. Going to have a chat with your... boss! Don't go nowhere!" she snickered. Jaime hobbled over to the cot, and sat on the edge. He glared at the entrance until she came into view. She motioned whoever was following her to stay back and out of sight before stepping into the center of the entrance. Sombra snickered again, and folded her arms in front of her. She cocked her hip to the side, and sported the smuggest grin she could muster.

            "Well... despite all your rage, looks like you're still just a rat in..."

            "Can it, y'bitch. Whatta' you want?!" he snarled. Sombra raised her eyebrows to appraise him.

            "Almost didn't recognize you being so clean, and dressed so nice... Didn't expect to see you and Hog on a date!" she winked. Jaime said nothing, and continued to scowl.

            "Why you looking so mad?" Sombra sassed.

            "Why?! You fuckin' kiddin' me, mate?! You told us you were gonna' clear our records! We did as we agreed. Made a big ol' distraction for ya' s'no one would see what you were doin'! Fat lotta' good it did us, though!" he snapped. Sombra straightened her stance, and glared down on him.

            "You didn't give me time! I said I'd do it for you after I finished what I started! Besides! You and your right-hand-man still got all that gold out of the deal, so why are YOU complaining?!" she snapped right back.

            "Yeah! Gold! And a twenty-five mill bounty, Suits and cops chompin' at th'bit t'throw us behind bars, an' every bounty hunter from Mexico t'Japan chasin' our asses 'cross the bloody fuckin' globe! Y'know what gold does f'that situation?! Fuck'all!" he barked. Sombra grew surprisingly cross the longer he talked.

            "Yeah? Like I said! YOU didn't give me enough TIME! Lost track of you two, and when I caught wind of you?! Oh! Let's just say THAT was interesting!" she hissed, ending in a smile. Jaime's blood ran cold at the sound of her tone. _Aw fuck! You... you goddamn snake!_

            "Didn't think much at first when I was contacted by that Vishkar creep a while back. He wanted me to leak just a little dirt on his bosses. He provided it, of course. Hoped to swoop in and take a seat. He had a back-up plan for that, too, but still... I decided to do some digging of my own, and boy, did I find way more than I expected! Found out Vishkar was running some fun little side projects, and had some rather interesting people on their team..." she said. _No! Oh Christ, no!_

            Sombra knew about the Recall, which meant she likely knew about the rest of the team, locations, and more. And yet, she still hadn't done anything with that information. She could have easily leaked that, too... but she didn't. Why? And why was she angry at him and Hog?

            "They offered me th'deal you couldn't. A real clean record!" he seethed. Sombra's violet eyes narrowed to slits.

            "You know? I honestly didn't give a shit about you and the pig... until I caught word you'd been back to Dorado. Also heard from my Los Muertos friends that there was an... incident at one of their newer hideaways. Explosions. My boys... DEAD. Ring any bells?" she started. He bristled at that.

            "Yeah. Rings a few. But those fucks didn't even know who I was. Took somethin' a'mine. Weren't too keen on givin' it back t'me without a fight! Took three bullets from them, so as far as I'm concerned, we're even," he explained. Sombra shrugged.

            "They were new. Didn't know about our deal, or else they wouldn't have bothered you. You could have dropped my name, but you didn't. Why, I wonder?" she started. Her eyes darted around, eyeing him up. Sombra was as smart as she was sinister, and she had an uncanny knack for piecing things together. Her eyes suddenly lit up.

            "Oh! I get it! Nice clothes? All scrubbed up? Holy shit! Does the Rat have himself a girlfriend? Or... boyfriend?" Sombra mused. Jaime's fist tightened in anger. _Don't you dare! Don't you fuckin' dare!_

            "That's it, isn't it? Somehow you got yourself some little honey on the side with the wannabe Overwatch team, and they landed themselves in a bit of trouble! And look at you, playing all Prince Charming to come to their rescue! Only problem is, rats can't be heroes, pendejo. They belong in the sewer." Jaime was getting sick of her hitting the nail on the head.

            "Yeah? Y'knew 'bout us an' Overwatch, but didn't say nothin'. How come?" he growled. Fair was fair, and he figured Sombra wouldn't take issue with answering his questions, considering he wasn't likely to live beyond their encounter. He wouldn't fool himself. She wanted him alive for a bit longer, but he was fairly confident he wasn't going to survive whatever she had planned. Her face grew annoyed.

            "See, that's the funny thing. Was able to dig up a little bit from Vishkar, and tried backtracking it. But whoever is in charge of the computer security is... skilled. Doesn't matter, though. Your team is probably suiting up to come get you. Left them a nice little trail for them to follow. Draw them out," she explained. His blood once again grew cold, though a sad smile crossed his face, and he let out a defeated chuckle.

            "You honestly think they're gonna' come for a couple a lowlife mercs? They ain't gonna' waste time. Fuck! Plenty a people wouldn't be too sad t'see me cark it," he replied. He wouldn't lie to himself about that, either. He may have agreed to sign on to the team, but it still didn't stop the fact that he was still wanted. The crimes had been committed. There was no way to undo the damage he had caused. And the team? They wouldn't be so stupid as to walk into an obvious trap. Not for somebody like him. Not even Satya... and his heart broke all over again. _At least I had some good days with ya', love. I'm glad... glad I at least got those to think about..._

            "Oh, don't sell yourself short. Bet your little sweetheart is crying her pretty little eyes out right this second. You were always charming... in your own unique way. Bet the whole team thinks of you two as family!" she grinned. He ground his teeth in silent frustration. _You lot better not do somethin' stupid, like try an' come rescue our sorry asses!_ Sombra shrugged her shoulders again.

            "Honestly though, I call US even. I don't really care what happens to you from here on out... but my new friends sure do! Been working with these guys on and off for the past few months. Now they want me to be a part of their little family. Turns out, I'm good at what I do. Also turns out they hate Overwatch, and they've been looking for you, too. Nothing personal, Rat, but a girl's got to eat, right?" she mused, and turned towards the unseen attendants. She gave them a nod, and he heard footsteps heading back down the corridor. Jaime tensed at her words. Had she turned them over to a bounty hunter? No, Sombra was more conniving than that. She was always self-serving, and more than self-sufficient. If she teamed up with somebody, then it was likely to be a powerful ally. Somebody with ties and connections... and then he knew. His heart nearly stopped beating. Terror gripped him.

            Fighting Talon with Overwatch had been one thing. He had the safety of the team, and planning. They could hide within the ranks, and the missions they took on were small enough to not draw attention of higher ranking Talon agents. And then, there had also been his own foolishness. He had convinced himself that perhaps it wasn't Talon who'd chased him all those years back. Or maybe Talon had simply given up on finding them altogether. After all, Overwatch certainly wouldn’t take in scum like him and Hog, right? _I'm a fucking idiot..._ Sombra started walking away from his cell, but not before turning back to look him over as he sat on the cot, terrified.

            "Look at you. Such a sorry piece of junk. You know what they call a rat that only has one front leg, and one back leg?" she teasingly asked. Jaime didn't give her the satisfaction of the smart-ass reply she had waited for.

            "Cat food..." she answered, and strode away. A few minutes later, a louder set of clunking boots made its way back down the corridor. A figure in black stepped up to look at him.

            Black hood on a draping coat? Skull mask? Metal gauntlets that ended in claws? Yes. It was indeed the nightmare that once chased him just out of Australia. He thought the whole thing had been imagined, really. There was no way the monster outside his cell was real, and still alive. Not after the explosions he thought he'd buried him in. But there he was. And if he was alive? The hazy recollection of the blue-skinned woman came back. He thought he'd buried her, too. _Fuckin' hate snipers! Cheap pieces a shit! Don't care how good her ass looked!_  

            The man in black gave a deep raspy chuckle, and simply floated into the cell. Jaime's mouth hung open. He had stood on two solid legs, evaporated into a cloud of black mist, floated through the barrier, and rematerialized before him. Inhuman. That was the only way to describe the person before him. He sucked in a breath to steady his nerves. He wasn’t sure what the monster had in store for him, but he had to try to be strong. _Think... think of th'good days. Think of Pipsqueak, an’ McCree. Think of home. Think of Satya._ The thoughts of friends, family, and love strengthened him. He glared up at the skull masked man, who's vacant dark eyes stared back at him.

            "Yer mum make you that Halloween costume, er what?" Jaime sassed, and flashed the monster a smarmy grin. He nearly forgot how much a fist to the face could hurt.


	60. Chapter 60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Hog are "interrogated" for answers. Satya, Hana, and Lucio are on a mission to save their friends. Satya proves that hell hath no fury quite like her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: this chapter gets intense, so please be aware.

            "Are you fuckin' mental?! That's worth double, at least!" Junkrat snarled. The solar converter he'd scavenged was in surprisingly good condition, and he had bent over backwards to reclaim it. The damn car had somehow found its way into the bottom of a sinkhole, and it was no easy feat climbing down all that way with a peg leg. Sure, he had rigged up a nice system of pulleys to help him down, but even that had been a gamble. 

            "Sorry, Junkrat. Best I can do. I'd give ya more, but I need t'get more first, y'see?" Reddog explained, "You can either take it, er leave it!" Junkrat eyed the jug of water. It was proper clean water from outside the Outback, and he was mighty thirsty. Hell, even the plastic jug it came in would be useful. He grumbled in defeat, took what Reddog offered, and scowled at the man. Reddog flashed him a mostly-toothless grin.

            "Y'want clean water? Stop wastin' time scavengin' fer parts, an' join th'raider bands! Heard they offered ya' a spot in their rigs. Bet those bombs a'yours would come in real handy!" Reddog advised. Junkrat rolled his eyes, and walked away from the sand-worn counter with ten liters of water in tow. He didn't have the stomach for raiding. Raiders were goddamn animals, and (despite his name) he refused to become an animal. Hell, he could barely stand being a Junker!

            Back in his hovel, he cracked open the jug, and redistributed it into his rationing bottles. If he was careful, he could make it last long enough for another expedition. The sun was starting to set, and the turned-over train car he called home was beginning to grow dark. He clicked on the solar cells, and his train car lit up. He pawed through the cans on his shelf for something to eat. _Beef vegetable soup... sounds good t'me, I guess._ In all honesty, he'd stopped tasting food a long time ago. Everything he consumed had been so salty, and always left a metallic taste in his mouth. He ended up just tuning the flavors out altogether. _Someday, I'll cook up somethin' that actually tastes good!_

            He flicked through one of the chemistry books he had picked up the day he had stumbled across the abandoned university. It had been a little heady at first, but the more he reread the grade twelve books, the more he could piece it all together. Junkrat grabbed a stick to work out some of the questions in the dirt, and then checked his answers in the teacher's edition of the book. He'd gotten them all correct. After his quick lesson, he grabbed a notebook and pencil, and tried drawing his own face from the reflection in the cracked mirror. He stopped partway through, and stared at himself. _Who'd wanna' look'it this ugly mug?_ He closed the notebook, and threw the pencil into the corner of the car. Junkrat curled up on the nasty patched mattress, and pulled the threadbare blanket over himself.

 

            _...there's gotta' be somethin' better than this..._

Junkrat woke up the next morning, and couldn't stand it anymore. He wanted to get out. No. Needed to. He popped his head out of his train car, and looked out into the distance. If he squinted, he could just make out the edges of the road to the destroyed Omnium. Desperate times called for desperate measures. He packed his bags and packs, and loaded up his water into his ramshackle cart. No one had ever gone near the Omnium. There had to be something in there. Something big enough to land him a ticket out of Junkertown.

            He'd batted the idea around before, but always told himself it was suicide. The radiation would be too strong. Anything that went in there surely wouldn't make it out alive. Junkrat thought about his years spent in Junkertown, and the many more possibly still ahead of him. _What's th'point? Whats th'fucking point?!_ If he died, he died! But he wasn't going to sit there and do nothing. Not when there was the chance of getting out of there. He pulled the cord to rev up the engine of the go-kart, pulled down his goggles, and crammed himself into the tiny contraption. His knees practically bumped his chin. The cart he had hitched to the back bumped and rattled behind him.

            Two days later, he saw the skeleton of the massive complex looming on the horizon. It was a ruin from better days; when it had been nothing more than an image on the TV screen during the nightly news. Only now, it was blown apart, and a great chasm lay before him. He took out his Geiger counter, and checked the readings. It was... normal! Or as close to normal as the Outback ever got.

            He crawled down using his rickety pulley system, and walked into the lower levels. Much of it was destroyed beyond belief. There were skeletons and wrecked Omnics everywhere, which was a fairly common sight to him from his many other trips out. He sneered at the Omnics. _Yer bloody faults!_ Eventually, he stumbled upon a large room. It appeared to be a lab. And then he noticed it; the Omnium core.

            He walked up to the massive column of metal, and looked with mouth agape. It remained intact, much to his surprise. The bodies of ALF members clawed their way towards it, while the metal husks of Omnics stood in defense in front of it. He walked the circumference of the column, and partway through, saw something altogether alarming. It was a body in a radiation suit, and it was freshly deceased!

            Whoever it was wore a black uniform and mask underneath, and seemed to be clutching something in their gloved hand. Junkrat hunched down, and pried the fingers open. A small metal stick lay in the person's palm. _That's...an outsider! Why're they down here? Fer this? How'd they die? Whatever it is has t'be somethin' important! ...an' worth a lot!_ He plucked the item out of the hand, but something flickered in the corner of his eye. It was a small red light on the side of the outsider's mask, and it flashed next to a small lens. Junkrat had a sinking feeling at the sight of the lens, and scrambled away. _That's... fuck! I dunno! What th'fuck was that? Is someone watchin'?!_ He looked at the metal stick in his hand, and then clenched his fist tightly around it. _I need t'get th'fuck outta' here!_

           

**.           .           .           .           .**

 

            Jaime woke up on the torn cot, and groaned from exhaustion and pain. His plate of "food" remained untouched on the floor. The day before had been a test in endurance for sure. The monster in the hood worked him over for hours with blow upon blow upon blow. He was fairly certain most of his ribs were broken. Deep gashes ran across his back and midsection. His face was swollen in several spots. Even his throat was bruised and sore. The monster tried choking him with his bare hands until he just began to reach unconsciousness before dropping him onto the concrete to regain his breath. With every punch, kick, and claw, the same few questions were asked.

            "Where is it?" the monster hissed.

            "Suck my cock!" Jaime replied. The monster gave a kick to his stomach.

            "Do you even know what it does?" it growled.

            "Go fuck yerself, y'reject Grim Reaper!" Jaime smirked between coughs.

            "Tell me where it is, and this will stop," it barked.

            "Christ yer a persistent little bastard, ain't ya?" Jaime chuckled. A heavy boot ground into his foot, and he could feel two of his toes break. Over and over he asked the questions, and over and over Jaime sassed back, earning himself another injury. Eventually, he could no longer bring himself to insult the monster, and just sat in silence, taking the abuse. Even the wraith grew tired, and left for the night, letting Jaime wallow in pain and mental anguish.

            He didn't want the team to come get him. He didn't want them to run headfirst into a trap. He didn't want Satya to come to his rescue, only to die in the process. And yet, a part of him wished they could. If not for him, then at least for Hog. He could only hear Hog's weak and wheezing breaths. No one bothered to beat or torture Hog. Lying on his back, barely able to breathe? Unable to move? Trapped in his own body, listening to the goings on around him, and not being able to speak (much less do anything about it)? That was torture in and of itself.

            _Satya... I love ya'. Don't wanna' cark it without seeyin' ya one last time... But please don't come get me._ He loved her, and missed the closest he'd ever gotten to some form of home and family. The least he could do was remain silent for their sakes.

            The door opened again at the end of the corridor, and boots came clunking down the concrete, along with the sharp click of heels. This was somebody entirely different, and he was fairly confident he knew who it was. He struggled to pull himself up. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing him on the verge of his breaking point.

            He ached. God, how he ached. Dried blood streaked across his back and belly. He could barely see outside his swollen left eye, but there was no mistaking her. Her skin was blue, her movements were fluid, and her eyes were soulless; another inhuman monster. She, however, didn't ghost through the invisible barrier. Two Talon agents stood behind her with weapons at the ready as she punched in a code into a keypad outside his cell. He could make out the edges of the projection devices down at the bottom corners switch from red to green. She stepped into the cell, and a moment later, they switched back to red. The barrier flashed back into place.

            "I think you know why I am here," she stated in a heavy French accent. She was carrying a tablet with her, which was something he didn't quite expect. He glared at her in silence.

            "I too am looking for answers, but, unlike my friends, I have my own means of procuring them," she said. The Talon agents lowered their weapons when Jaime didn't immediately launch himself after her.

            "You know, after you tried burying me underneath a pile of rubble I vowed I'd pay you back a hundred fold," she continued in a cool tone.

            "Tell me where you hid the core drive, and you just may live," she instructed.

            "S'thats what it is, huh? Didn't actually know, t'be honest," he snipped. The woman's face scrunched in frustration for apparently divulging more information than she intended. Jaime let out a weary chuckle.

            "Christ, let's just get this over with, yeah? Ain't gonna' tell ya', so just get started with th'floggin' er killin' er whatever y'have in mind..." he said, waving his good hand like it wasn't a big deal. His wrist hurt from the action, but he suppressed his grimace of pain. The frustration of his captor slowly evolved into something smug. He didn't like that.

            "So be it. The killings, no? How about we start with your friend?" she said. Jaime's eyes grew molten.

            "Fuck off... Hog knew what he was gettin' into..." he bluffed. The woman seemed unimpressed with his response. In all honesty, it was hard to get any sort of bead on her. Every face she made was insincere; a mask that was forced to keep up appearances.

            "Very well. Since he is as good as dead already... how about your team? They may be heading this way. Seems strange to me that you wouldn't put them before your own safety. Did it ever occur to you that if you told us where the core drive is, we would spare them?" she offered. Jaime was not fooled.

            "Yeah. You'll spare 'em? Sorry, love, but I trust ya 'bout as far as I can throw ya'. 'Sides, already told that devil woman an’ yer lil gloomy friend yesterday. They ain't comin'. Ain't gonna' waste time rescuin' me an' Hog, so yer shit outta' luck!" he grinned. The woman shrugged, and pulled up her tablet.

            "Yes, I suppose you're right on that. As you say, who would come rescue you? Arsonist? Thief? Terrorist? The world would be better off without you, and perhaps the crew knows it. And now, with two less members? The team that calls itself Overwatch will be even easier to erase. Talon finally has the numbers and the means to wipe the Gibraltar facility off the map... Tell me, are Sombra's words true? You have yourself a little sweetheart back at the watchpoint?" she droned. Jaime kept his face still in hopes to not give anything away. The woman gave a sly smile.

            "I see. Well then, shall we have a look over the crew you’re willing to sacrifice? Sombra was able to pull up some dossiers. Surely one of them cares enough about you to make a rescue attempt. Here we are," she said, and started flicking through pictures of each of the crew. She swiped through the male members of the team rather quickly, and commented to herself in parts French and English.

            "Of course the old fool would join. Honor? A joke!" she muttered at the sight of Reinhardt. She sneered at Jesse, Torbörn, and Winston. It struck Jaime as odd that she somehow knew the older members. A small spark of curiosity settled in the back of his mind. _What's her story?_  She slowed down once she reached the female members.

            "Tracer? I think it's safe to say you are not her type. Mercy? No, I don't think so... Amari's daughter? My my! Following in her mother's footsteps... but not your sweetheart," she mused to herself. _Stay cool. She don't need t'know. Stay cool, an' she stays safe... fer now._ Hana's face graced the screen, and the woman clucked.

            "And now I see Overwatch is recruiting children? How sad! Oh, look at her! Satya Vaswani! Isn't she lovely! And familiar. She was the one the press said was dead. At least she follows the common trend with Overwatch members..." Jaime flicked his eyes for just a moment. It wasn't intentional. It was more of a reflex than anything... and it didn't go unnoticed.

            "Ah! And there we have it. I am... surprised. She seems well out of your league. Poor thing. So desperate. Scrape the bottom of the barrel, and you'll be thankful with whatever you find, I suppose." The blue-skinned woman straightened her spine, and hugged the tablet to her chest. A cold smile graced her face, but never touched her eyes.

            "Well, now it doesn't matter whether they fall for the trap, or if we have to get them ourselves. I'll make sure to keep my eye out for her, regardless. Though, should you change your mind about telling us, perhaps she will be spared," she promised while she closed an eye and motioned firing a shot with her free hand. _Fuck! Ohfuck! I'm such a... such a fucking idiot!_ His own selfishness had turned Satya into a target. The woman turned, and waited for the Talon guards to let her out of the cell. He scrambled to find the words he wanted to hurl at her.

            "YOU FUCKING BITCH!" he roared as she left the corridor, and he fall back. He curled up on the cot, and wiped away the stupid tears of frustration that only stung his swollen eye further.

            He did that. He put Satya on the block. All of them, really. The whole team could very well die and it was his fault, but he wasn't entirely stupid. Telling her or the shitty Grim Reaper that he had stowed the damn thing in the bed he'd made for the mice would not save him, or any of them. Talon was not the forgiving type, nor the merciful type. From the very beginning, they had pursued him, making it abundantly clear that they were not willing to negotiate. They were not to be trusted. And whatever it was they wanted the core drive for? Certainly it was something dangerous; not just dangerous for him or Overwatch, but possibly the world-over. Talon was a terrorist group; a real one. If they were willing to attack Overwatch outright? He shuddered to think what they had planned. He remained tucked up into a tight ball, listening to the drips from a leaky pipe in the cell across from him, and Hog's heavy breaths.

            "They're... bluffin'... Jamison... Can't... attack... watchpoint... Other... militaries... can... step... in..." Hog wheezed, breaking the silence. Jaime nodded to himself in acceptance. At least there was that.

            "Mako... We're gonna' die here, ain't we?" he asked. Hog managed to eke out a sound of acceptance. The guilt within him gnawed at his brain and stomach. He was bloody, bruised, and finally broken.

            "M'sorry, mate. Sorry fer everythin'. She's gonna' die, too. They all are, if they're stupid enough t'come get us. M'sorry," he nearly whispered his apology. Hog continued to suck in heavy breaths.

            "No... worries... Got... outta... Junkertown... S'all... I... ever... wanted..." Jaime didn't move from his cot. _Yeah. Got outta' there. Fucked up th'rest of it after that, but I had good times._ He thought about the happier days, and realized most of them all happened within the watchpoint. He didn't regret a single moment there, except for one.

            _Shoulda' asked her when I had th'chance..._ He wanted to. Wanted to for weeks, but he didn’t have the nerve at the time. He closed his eyes, and tried to imagine her saying yes.

**.           .           .           .           .**

 

            "The location they've been taken to is an abandoned prison roughly a hundred miles from Numbani. I have already spoken with the Numbani ambassador, as has Camden. From what we've gathered, the prison is still owned by a private company, though we assume that is just a laundering front for whomever we are up against. A brief fly-over spotted, from a distance, an estimated two hundred agents. Given the images we've seen? It is most likely Talon. Helix has agreed to help us, and will be supplying us with one hundred and fifty of their own personnel, who all should be arriving at the complex in four hours." Winston began. The briefing room was silent. Satya wrung her hands together. Dawn of the third day... was Jaime still alive? Was Hog? What if they got there, and it was too late? _No. I cannot fall prey to worries. If... if they are not alive, then I will make their captors regret taking them._ Vengeance was not something she ever wished to partake in, but for this, she'd make the exception.

            "You _think_ it's Talon?" Zarya asked, eyeing Winston. He looked up from his podium.

            "The location was never indicated in the Hanamura intel, but I can't imagine any other group is capable of amassing so many agents at this time. And with their close proximity to Numbani? It's also not terribly far from where we were attacked in the air several months back," Winston explained. Satya shuddered at the memory of nearly being sucked out of the dropship.

            Two hundred estimated agents? Talon had the higher number, but how would they fair against Helix? Helix was well-armed, and most likely an unexpected ally. While Talon (or whomever it was) had possibly set a trap, they were going to run in with a surprise of their own. They didn’t know that Overwatch was finally funded, and could afford the private army. It was a small comfort to Satya, and she desperately needed that. She'd hardly managed to sleep or eat while waiting for intel to arrive, and agreements to be made. The waiting and the worrying was agony. Winston dismissed the meeting, and the crew hurried to prepare for the mission.

            She went into the armory, and grabbed her own projector and headset. She stared at the cases of bombs, grenades, and snap-traps. Jaime's grenade launcher hung above them. Hog's own shrapnel gun hung next to it. A lump began to grow in her throat.

            "Vaswani? Do you need help?" came Pharah's voice. Satya shook her head, and reached into her own case to pull out the bag of flash-bangs Jaime always supplied her with.

            "I just want to get out there. I need to save them. I need to..." she started, but came to a halt when no more words came to mind. Pharah took a couple steps closer, and began to pull down the pieces to her own armor.

            "You ever fight in heavy combat?" she asked. Satya shook her head no.

            "Not really. Once, Lena and I went in for reconnaissance, but ended up running right into the thick of it. Beyond that, no." she admitted. She suddenly felt incredibly out of place, and ill-prepared.

            "The first rule of heavy combat? You need to silence your fear, and embrace your strength. There are those who care for you that are also depending on you. Show them what you're made of," Pharah advised. Satya steeled herself, and nodded. A fire began to grow within her. _How dare they? How dare they take them from me?!_

            "And anger?" she asked. Pharah gave a confident smile.

            "Anger is not healthy to hold on to, but for moments like these, there's nothing better in the world. Channel it. You're smart, you're strong, and you have a sense of duty. If your enemies had any clue what's heading their way, they'd be turning tail right now!" she said.

            "Thank you, Pharah... for everything," she murmured, and connected the pouch of flash-bangs next to her hip. Pharah gave another encouraging smile.

            "What can I say? The Junkers grew on me! Now, let's go bring them home!"

            Satya sat next to Hana on the dropship. Jaime's seat remained vacant. She tried not to linger on it for too long. Hana was abnormally quiet and somber. She hardly looked up from her lap. Satya reached over, and clasped her friend's hand. Hana looked up at her, and her mouth hung open for a moment in surprise.

            "We can do this. Are you with me?" Satya asked. Hana nodded, and Satya's words seemed to strengthen her resolve.

            "Yeah! I got you. Where you go, I go," she quietly replied. The dropship landed, and the crew loaded up in an inconspicuous truck. Satya placed a teleporter base behind her, and shielded the team.

            "This will help, but the shields can only withstand so much. Avoid direct hits, if you can. Be careful out there!" she explained as the hardlight molded to every team member. They each thanked her in turn, and then she and Torb quickly placed their own turrets and defenses around the truck. _Find Jaime and Hog, teleport them back to the truck._  She repeated her final instructions to herself over and over. 

            She wasn't particularly sure who started the fight. One moment, she was running behind Hana's Meka. The next, absolute chaos unfolded. Talon forces came pouring out of the prison complex just as the Overwatch crew drew near, but Helix got the drop on them. From the sky, Pharah and her former teammates glided down. A barrage of rockets and blasts rained from above. Helix was organized, and methodical. The distraction was perfect. Reinhardt threw up his shield for their own team, and began to roar.

            "QUICKLY! FIND A VAY IN!" he thundered over the cacophony. Satya's headset kept her focused. The sounds of the mayhem around her were dulled. She shut away the terrified and worried Satya, and embraced Symmetra once more. Symmetra was cool under pressure. She wasn't looking for hostages. She was simply staying focused on the objective. Hana seemed to also get a burst of the same energy.

            "DVa online! Looks like somebody forgot to warn them that I play to win!" she cheered over the headset. Lució came gliding up between them on his skates, which was a surprisingly effective mode of transportation.

            "Shoot, somebody needs to stick around you two, make sure you don't overdo it!" he grinned. Nothing seemed to be capable of stemming his flow of positivity, and it was greatly appreciated. While Lució was not as skilled of a medic as Angela, he was fast and could still get the job done. _When we find them, who knows what state they'll be in!_ Satya swallowed hard, and tried to shove away that particular fear. It would only get in the way.

            They ran along the perimeter of the prison walls. A few enemy agents fired down upon them, and Satya whipped around to let loose a shield. The translucent oval of hardlight went tearing off towards their attackers, and knocked them right off the edge of the wall.

            "Now that's a fancy new trick!" Lució commented. She gave a curt nod in thanks. The design had been her most recent prototype. It was effective, and she'd gladly use it again. Hana made sure to fire at nearly anything that moved above them.

            The trio ran into a bit of a problem, however. There wasn't an easy way to get in. The main gates were thick with soldiers and agents ripping at each other, and Jaime wasn't there to use his explosives to create an alternate point of entry. Satya tried to look for exploitable weaknesses, but the wall was surprisingly still in good condition.

            "How are we going to get in?!" Hana groaned, as though she could read Satya's thoughts. _I could build a ramp to climb over, but that would make us visible targets..._ Before she could formulate a plan, a familiar voice boomed over their headsets.

            "When life closes a door, blow open a new one! Your boyfriend taught me that! Stand back, friends!" Zarya instructed. They willingly complied, and Satya watched as she powered up a shot and fired. Zarya might as well have carried a cannon around. The explosion was deafening at such close proximity.

            "That's how you get tinnitus!" Lució coughed as he tried to wave away the dust. The shot was just what they needed. A large hole was left in its wake, and this did not go unnoticed by Talon. Agents came running with guns at the ready, but they were blocked by a sudden wall of ice.

            "That'll stop them! Get in there!" Mei called.

            "You have my thanks!" Satya called back, and the trio ran through the breach.

            She wasn't sure exactly where to go, but she was on a mission, and she'd find the path, one way or another. An internal fire consumed her. There was no stopping her. Agents in black came running, but she kept firing from her projector. Hana would also fire back, and staring down the double barrels of a Meka designed to stop giant Omnics was not something they wished to contend with. And if any agent did manage to get too close? Well... Lució's amp-gun proved surprisingly effective at pushing people back.

            "Okay, we've been following along the wall here for a while, and there's no way in! Where are they?" Hana yelled over the headset. A lone Talon agent managed to stumble away from the fray in the prison yard.

            "I don't know, but I will find out. I am sure I can get an answer from him," Satya said as she charged her projector. She walked right up to the distracted man, and knocked the weapon out of his hands. Confused, he simply stood there as she jammed her fist into his stomach, spun him around, and prodded his back with the nozzle of her projector.

            "Scream, and I will bring this to a quick end. You are holding two men captive. Tell me where, and I will spare you," she stated. Her voice was steady, and it was her calm demeanor that seemed to terrify him the most.

            "L-lower level... e-east block... they're s-still alive, I think." the agent stuttered.

            "You have my thanks," she repeated, and fired. The man seized up from the blast, and dropped to the ground.

            "Holy shit!" Hana squeaked. Lució's mouth hung open in shock.

            "He is still alive. I didn't want him telling anyone we are heading below. I doubt we'll get the same treatment if we are caught," she quickly explained. 

            "Remind me not to get on your bad side!" Lució muttered mostly to himself.

            "For a time there, you were," Satya replied. She scanned the perimeter, and eventually located what appeared to be a guard entrance. Satya pointed towards the area.

            "Oh shit! There is no way my Meka can fit in there! Oh! To your left!" Hana warned. Satya shot a quick blast, knocking another agent down with barely a thought.

            "We'll use your vehicle to block the path behind us. I can line it with turrets to keep it protected. Or, you can stay and fire at the enemy. Whichever you are more comfortable with," she stated. It wasn't an easy decision for Hana. Satya would much rather her friend stick by her side, but she wouldn't force her own wants upon her. Hana sucked in a breath.

            "Those turrets of yours will keep my Meka safe?" she hesitantly asked. Satya waited for the wave of rocket fire far off on the distance to settle before answering.

            "Yes. I swear to you!" Satya promised. Hana gave a nod.

            "Alright then!" she agreed. The trio continued towards the small door.

            The team and Helix had successfully drawn the enemy out from the prison grounds altogether. They seemed to be making quick work of the Talon troops, and it gave the three of them a glimmer of hope. As they drew close, Hana sat her Meka down, and hopped out. Satya lined the vehicle with a dozen turrets.

            "I'd like to see anyone TRY to even get near this!" Lució snickered. Satya stepped up to the keypad lock, and put the photon projector to work. The prototype she had taken from Sanjay was powerful; much more so than her own. It had been difficult utilizing a weapon that had once been used upon herself, but she used that very incident to fuel her. _Unlike you, Sanjay, I truly will use this to make the world a better place, and that starts with rescuing those in danger._

            Hana and Lució seemed nervous, and she couldn't say she blamed them. Hana was without her Meka. While a skilled pilot with an accurate shot within her vehicle, outside she was exceptionally vulnerable. Lució was not a fighter; at least, not physically. He could rally people and heal them, but bringing harm to others was new to him. In a way, she felt very in tune with him. She herself preferred not to take a life if it could be avoided.

            "We can do this. Remember why we have come," Satya nearly whispered. She wanted her words to be encouraging, and so (with much effort) she suppressed the waiver in her voice. Hana pulled her side arm out of its holster.

            "I know. Where you go, I go," she nearly whispered back.

            "And I ain't letting you two out of my sight! I got your backs!" Lució called. Satya stepped in front of the door, and pulled a flash-bang out of her pouch. 

            "Alright. Let me go first," she instructed. She lit the small blue orb, and tossed it into the hall within. The door blocked the flash and sound, and she stepped in, weapon at the ready. There was no one at first. The corridor was silent. Satya saw steps leading down, and she motioned for her friends to follow. They kept their eyes darting everywhere, and didn't say a word. She made her way east, hoping to find the block the agent told her about. The peeling paint on the cinderblock walls finally alerted her: **Lower Block East**. She took another steadying breath, and motioned for the other two to wait before peeking around the corner.

            As was expected, guards waited. They knew somebody would be coming, and that was a good sign. Why else would they be there if Jaime and Hog weren't there and weren't alive? Satya quietly rolled another lit flash-bang. There were a couple shouts that she grimaced at before Jaime's creation went off. There were eight of them in total, and Satya hit each of the disoriented soldiers with another incapacitating blast. She sent another of her projected shields in front of her, in case more of the enemy came to check on the shouts.

            The east block was massive. The prison itself didn't appear that large from the ground level, but the lower portion was practically a maze. _There has to be a control room. Something. An office. They're on this floor. Their location has to be recorded._ Satya scanned some more, and saw a glassed-in office with blinds drawn. There was the tiniest flicker of movement between the slats. Somebody was in there; somebody with answers. Satya signaled for her friends to move as silently as possible.

            As she approached the office door, she crouched down low, and went to work on another keypad. The lock clicked, and she began charging her projector. As the door slid open, she rolled in, popped up, and brought up a shield... but there was no one in there. Hana and Lució came in behind her with their weapons drawn. Hana closed the door behind them.

            "Do not put your weapons down... I saw movement. Someone is in here!" Satya hissed. The office wasn't particularly large, but there was a top-notch computer on a desk, and tech equipment all around. _My eyes have never lied. I saw movement! And I can feel a presence in here!_ Hana spun around, and jabbed her elbow into what appeared to be nothing. There was a grunt, and suddenly a woman materialized before them as if from nothing. Three weapons were aimed at her face.

            "Told me to use all of my senses when investigating. I smelled her perfume." Hana quickly explained. _Smart thinking!_ She was very thankful Hana had gone to her seminar. 

            The woman slowly stood up with her hands held up in surrender. At her feet lay her machine pistol. She knew she was outnumbered, and didn't make any sudden moves. She didn't look like a typical Talon agent. For one, her face wasn't covered. She also wasn't sporting a standard Talon uniform. She was dressed more for the club than for battle. Her clothes were covered in circuitry. Everything about her screamed high-tech, and suddenly Satya realized who it was.

            "You're the hacker!" Satya hissed.

            "And you're the girlfriend, eh?" the woman said, putting on a tough face. Her comment caught Satya off-guard.

            "Who else would come to personally free the rat and the pig? It's funny, though. You sure ain't what I expected!" she continued to remark. She eyed her up and down, clearly appraising her physical attributes. Satya took more direct aim with her projector.

            "Your name!" she snapped, staring their captive in the eyes. She merely shrugged.

            "Oof! A lady that takes charge! Bet you two got a lotta' sparks flying when you're together... oh! Name! Yeah! It's Sombra," the woman answered.

            "Sombra, then. Take me to them, now!" Satya instructed. Sombra gave a quick nod of acceptance.

            "You're the boss, boss!" Sombra grinned. Satya didn't like the smug look on her face, nor her carefree attitude. It could have been a bluff; a forced brave face to throw Satya off. Or maybe, she truly did have a trick up her sleeve. Sombra walked down the maze of cellblocks and corridors.

            "You all can relax. No one else here but us. Got the call a few minutes ago for all hands on deck. Except for me, of course. I've got better things to do than get killed. I'm not that committed to the cause," Sombra rambled.

            "Be silent!" Satya ordered. Sombra shut her mouth and looked at her two other captors.

            "Love the new album, you two!" she winked. Hana quietly growled.

            "Sym, can I slap this bitch when we're done?" Hana bristled.

            "After me, of course," Satya responded rather straight-faced. Sombra rounded a corner, and stopped in front of what appeared to be a small supply closet.

            "Stored their stuff in here. You'll probably want it, right? So the pig can breathe, and your boy can walk?" she asked, tilting her head towards the door. Satya walked forward and unlocked the keypad.

            "Fancy tech. Guess I know who killed that Sanjay creep and blamed it on me!" Sombra said with a dark smile. Satya hesitated just a moment.

            "Your tech is fairly unique as well. You will remain silent, or else you will see what localized EMP blasts can do to a system!" Satya warned. That threat worked stupendously. Sombra's eyes widened with the slightest hint of worry, and she finally stopped talking. Lució took Jaime's arm and peg leg. Hana took Hog's mask. Sombra went back to leading the way with three weapons aimed at her head. She slowly came to a stop down the end of one last corridor.

            "There! The pig is..." but Sombra never finished her sentence. Satya blasted her in the back with her projector. Sombra seized up, and fell to the ground.

            "I trust you about as far as I can spit, and I never spit," Satya hissed at Sombra's unconscious form. 

            "I'm just gonna'... leave that one alone..." Lució quipped, and stifled an awkward smile. Satya ignored the inappropriate joke, quickly dragged Sombra towards a cell that still had bars, and formed a cuff around one of her wrists. She secured her in place, and tilted her head towards the hall. Satya began to run, and the pair once again followed behind her.

            She heard Hog before she saw him. His wheezes sound so labored, so pained. He laid on his back, unable to move. Satya saw the barriers on the ground, and used her projector one more time to unlock it. The sensors changed color, and she ran in.

            "Oh God, HOG!" Hana rushed in with his mask and breather clutched in her hands. Small eyes, slowly fluttered open. None of them had ever seen his full face before. His nose was broad; his eyes were squinted. His wide mouth was drawn in pain. Across what would have been a kind face traced the many scars she had previously only caught small glimpses of. In the dim light of his cell, his brown eyes darted. He couldn't speak. His massive hand slowly came up, and pointed towards the exit behind them. Hana scrambled to hook his mask on, and Lució immediately set to work with his pulse gun. It vibrated off of Hog's chest. After a few moments of breathing from his mask and Lució's healing pulse, he managed to break his silence.

            "Satya... he's down the hall...they hurt... they hurt him!" Hog groaned. Satya smoothed his platinum hair back.

            "Rest, my friend. I'll get him!" she soothed. She straightened herself, and turned to leave Hog's cell.

**.           .           .           .           .**

Jaime was once again curled up into a ball. The monster with the skull mask had come back to give him another once-over. He didn't break. He'd accepted the fact that he'd already put a target on Satya's head. He wouldn't open his mouth for fear of bringing further harm to anyone. The monster was called away partway through his "interrogation". He thought he heard the Talon guard call him Reaper, and mentioned something about a "Widowmaker". _Those are some shit names._ He managed to drift off into a delirious stupor. It was as close to sleep as he was likely to get.

            Three days. Three days, and no one had come for them. He was glad, really. It meant no one likely would be, which meant they hadn't fallen for the trap. But it hurt, as well. He didn't want to die in a dingy cell, forgotten and alone. Was Hog even alive? He couldn't hear his friend's wheezing gasps, but then, his hearing was a bit muffled after the smack Reaper gave him. He thought he could hear rumbles and blasts, but maybe his mind made it all up. He thought he could hear shouts in the distance, but that must have been a hallucination. He could have sworn he heard gunfire, and running. No. No, that wasn't real. It couldn't be, because it sounded like feet running towards him. Why would anyone be running towards him?

            "Jaime! Oh gods! Jaime!" Now he knew he was hearing things. The voice sound just like Satya. _She's smarter than that, though..._ He didn't move from his spot, but then he felt a soft hand rest on his shoulder. He instinctively flinched from the sensation, and the hand pulled away.

            "Jaime!" she cried. It WAS her! God, there was no mistaking it that time. Despite his broken nose, he could still smell her perfume. That wasn't fake. His eyes snapped wide open as she carefully rolled him over to face her.

            "S-Satya? N-no... love, y'shouldn't... be here. G'back!" he warned, his voice thin and weak. His eye was still swollen. His vision was blurry, but there was no mistaking her.

            "Jaime, we've come to rescue you," she gently called, and tried sitting him up. He couldn't stop the thin smile spreading across his face. He'd never heard a voice so beautiful before, and she had come to save him!

            "Ain't safe, love... izza' trap. Too many..." he tried warning again. She shushed him, and gently ran her fingers across his forehead and scalp.

            "Sh-sh-shhhh...it's alright. We knew it was a trap. We came with reinforcements. We're going to get you and Hog out!" she assured him. His brain was spinning. _Reinforcements? What's goin' on?_ He tried asking, but the words wouldn't come to him. Satya continued to stroke his head while examining his many injuries. 

            "What did they do to you?! Those monsters!" she quietly cried. He winced as she gently probed around his side. Everywhere hurt, and he didn't know how he was going to actually leave when he couldn't even manage to sit up. He was weak from hunger and thirst, too. A few minutes later, he could make out the sounds of more steps. One pair was particularly heavy. It sounded like Hog, but he wouldn't entertain the hope that his friend had survived until he actually saw him.

            First came Lució. He zipped into the room, and his usual smile was replaced to one of worry. Hana came bolting in next while carrying his arm and peg leg. And then came Hog. His steps were slow; his breath was still labored, but he was standing upright. Hog gave a grunt in anger, and lumbered up to Jaime.

            "Fuckin'... animals!" he grunted as he looked him over. Lució sucked in a breath as he also began to examine the many injuries.

            "Okay, this is really bad, and he needs to see Angela. But... I should at least be able to get him up and walking. Rat? You ready to get out of here?" he asked. Jaime gave a weak thumbs-up with a trembling hand. Hana bit back tears. Satya stepped aside, but continued to stroke the top of his head. Lució set to work.

            The audio pulses hurt at first. He could feel it vibrate the shattered bones of his ribcage, and he cried out in pain. It wasn't like Angela's tools, but after a couple of minutes, he could feel the bones knit back together. His swollen eye was able to open. His nose realigned. His toes no longer hurt. The gashes across his chest and back (which were starting to grow infected) partially closed up. It wasn't a complete job. He still ached and he was still weak, but he could feasibly stand and possibly even walk.

            "That's the best I can do for now. Angela's gonna' have to take over. Rat, can you sit up?" Lució asked. Jaime let out a heavy breath, and nodded. He slowly pushed himself up, and grimaced. His abdomen still hurt, and the process of sitting was agony. Satya wrapped her arm around him for support, and helped him attach his arm and leg.

            "I've got you. It'll be okay. We'll get you home," she murmured.

            "Sym! We need to get the teleporter up! Then you can get them to the truck! But I need to get my Meka, too!" Hana reminded. Satya gave a nod, and slipped her arm out from underneath him. She quickly formed the base, and tried activating it. It didn't seem to want to turn on.

            "I don't... I don't understand!" she snapped in confusion. She kept hitting the button at the base with no luck. She tried creating a second base, but that wouldn't turn on either.

            "I don't... unless... Oh! Oh, she is a crafty devil!" Satya seethed. Jaime didn't have to ask who she was talking about.

            "Sombra... that must have been why she was in the office! She was putting up a connection jammer! And I don't think she'll be waking up anytime soon..." Satya explained.

            "Shoulda' fuckin' killed her!" Jaime hissed, and Hog nodded his head in agreement. Satya quickly dismantled the two teleporters with her projector.

            "What do we do? Go back the way we came?" Lució asked.

            "It seems that way. I remember the path. Let's just hope our team is still proving an effective distraction!" Satya replied. She quickly covered him and Hog with her translucent shields, and helped him stand up. Satya once again roped her arm across his back, and draped his across her shoulders.

            "Here. Lean on me. I've got you!" she ordered. Jaime gave a weak smile.

            "Yeah?" he said. He loved her. Christ, how he loved her. He didn't like having her and the team putting themselves in danger on his account, but he wouldn't lie. Seeing her there strengthened his resolve. She came for him, and that was all that mattered.

            "Always and ever," she replied, and began to walk. Hana tried to do the same for Hog. While there was no way the mammoth Junker could actually lean on her without accidentally crushing her, he too seemed to take heart at his friend's offer. They passed by a set of cuffs clasped around bars, and Satya stiffened

            "How'd she get out?!" Lució asked, his face shocked. Satya shook her head in disbelief.

            "I don't... I don't know!" she stammered. _Told ya! Shoulda' killed her!_ Hana looked around, and sniffed.

            "Don't smell her perfume! Everyone stay quiet! We'll find that invisible bitch!" she growled. Satya led the way, one arm wrapped around him, the other with her projector at the ready. They wound their way around the maze of corridors. To his surprise, there was no one to stop them. As they climbed up the stairs, a couple black-clad enemies blundered their way towards them. They seemed to be in retreat. Satya wasted no time blasting them back. Her jaw was set, and her eyes blazed with fury. He'd never seen her so determined before, but in a way, he liked it. They found their way to the open guard door, and Hana's Meka blasted and zapped anything that drew close. She let out a little chuckle.

            "Those two must have used the other door! My baby is a zappin' machine! Here! Let me clear the way!" she grinned. Hana hopped over a few dead bodies, and climbed into her Meka. Jaime finally noticed all of Satya's turrets covering the pink shell, and it brought another smile to his face.

            "Be right back, guys! Gonna' wreck shit up!" she grinned, and went tearing off towards a group of Talon soldiers. Jaime could hear their shouts and screams as the pink robot came charging right at them. They turned tail, and ran. Satya took a moment to click her headset.

            "We got them out, but there's a jammer in place! My teleporter won't sync! We need to get them back on foot. Angela, their injuries are quite serious. We need you back at the truck as soon as possible!" Satya rushed. Jaime could hear somebody talking back over the headset.

            "Alright. See you there!" she replied. They hugged the wall. The enemy soldiers seemed to be too preoccupied with what appeared to be Helix agents dive-bombing them to even notice their attempt at escape. Satya pointed at a massive hole blown into the wall.

            "There! That's the way we need to go!" she instructed. Lució stepped in to replace Hana, and helped guide Hog.

            "Easy, big guy! I got you!" he reassured. Jaime watched as they stepped through the make-shift exit. Something gnawed at Jaime. It had all been too easy. Where were the rest of the agents? Surely they would have guarded a breach like that. He saw the bodies littering the ground in the open field. It appeared, at least, that their team was winning. Perhaps that was it? No. It still didn't feel right. Somewhere out there, THEY were waiting. His eyes darted around to try and find them. _Fuck, they could be anywhere!_

            A couple enemy agents broke away from the free-for-all Hana was having, and came running at them. Satya unwound her arm, and raised her weapon. Still unsteady on his feet, he fell onto his backside and witnessed the fight unfold while sitting on the grass. They managed to dodge the shots she fired, and they took aim at her. She also managed to dodge with a roll, and quickly let loose a projected shield. The disk knocked them back, and she ran up closer to quickly dispatch them. 

            It was then that he saw her; the blue-skinned witch. She stood triumphantly on top of the wall at the other side of the yard. She held up a rifle, and began to take aim; not at Satya, but at him! He froze in momentary terror and confusion, and his eyes snapped shut as she fired.

            Something was amiss. He heard the bullet, but didn't feel a thing. Satya's shields were useful in a pinch, but they couldn't withstand something as powerful as a sniper rifle. Was he in shock? Was he bleeding, and didn't even know it? Was he already dead? He opened his eyes, and then he understood. Satya had purposefully thrown herself in front of him. The shield she sent forth came a millisecond too late. She collapsed in front of him, bleeding profusely from a hole in her lung. From the ground, her gold eyes stared back at him in shock and terror.

            _Oh Christ, no! NO!_


	61. Chapter 61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime once again contends with Reaper. Their meeting does not go as expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: another intense chapter ahead.

            Satya lay in the grass, gasping. From the outer wall, Widowmaker barely managed to dodge the speeding shield she let loose only a second too late. But something did hit her. The sniper suddenly dropped like a stone. He didn't know why, and he didn't care. Jaime scrambled to his knees, and launched himself over to Satya.

            "Aw Christ, love! NO!" he croaked. Her eyes were still open, and her breaths were shallow, but a sucking wheeze eked out of her.

            "Why'd ya do it, Satya?! Yer too smart t'do somethin' that stupid! Ain't fuckin' worth it!" he stammered. He reached over to activate the commlink on her headset.

            "I NEED FUCKIN HELP! SHE'S GONNA DIE!" he roared.

            "OH FUCK! I'M COMIN'!" Lució roared right back, but it sounded like he was cornered by enemy agents. Jaime leaned forward, and tried to staunch the blood flowing out of her with his hands. It was all he had.

            "I got ya, love! He's comin'! Gonna' heal ya'! Gotta' hang on!" he ordered in a trembling voice. His hands were soaked. Her breath grew weaker with each inhale. _Whywhywhyfuckinwhy?_  Why did she do it? Didn't she realize she was throwing her life away for him? A Junker? Somebody the world could easily live without? It wasn't right. He was the one the sniper aimed for. Why did she have to get in the middle? In the end, the one they called Widowmaker had kept her promise, and Christ did it hurt.

            The sounds of the fighting behind him became muffled. It was nothing more than background. He lifted her up and cradled her head. All he knew was she was in his arms, dying. His home was dying. His world was dying. Heavy boots slowly stepped over towards him. He knew the sound of those boots. Death itself had come for her. He felt the cold metal of a gun barrel press against the back of his head. Death had come for him as well.

            "I'll ask you one last time. Where is it?" Reaper asked in a raspy voice. Jaime swallowed, and looked down at Satya. He gave her a sad smile, and placed his hand over her visor.

            "Don't... don't look, love. Gonna' be over in a minute, yeah? Best not look..." he instructed, and waited for Reaper to pull the trigger.

            "REYES, YOU SON OF A BITCH! YOUR FIGHT'S WITH ME!" The gun barrel pulled away. Both Jaime and Reaper turned their heads instantaneously. A man stood several yards back. His silver hair peeked over a red-lit visor and mask. He wore a blue and white leather jacket. Jaime had never seen the man before, but he carried a mighty hefty gun, and he took aim at the specter. The wraith that was Reaper started to dissipate.

            "To be continued..." he warned in a gravelly voice, and drifted off towards the mystery man.

            "Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" Lució shouted, skating over from the other direction. He fell and slid on his knees towards Satya, and pushed Jaime's hand away from the wound. He immediately brought his pulse gun up, and started working on the bullet hole.

            "This is bad, Rat! Real bad!" Lució stated. Jaime continued to hold her.

            "Love, y'gotta' fight, alright? Don't die! Y'cant die!" he ordered.

            "Angela? This is outta' my league! Think her lung might have collapsed! I need you!" Lució called into his earpiece. Christ, she was going to die! He was actually going to watch her life leave her body, and the light leave her eyes! It wouldn't be the first time he'd seen someone die, but this was different. It was Satya. She was beautiful, and smart, and caring, and brave, and perfect, and she was going to die.

            "Come on, girl! I know you got this! Come on, you're a fighter! Saw you in action!" Lució said, trying to boost confidence. He never took his finger off the trigger of his device. It seemed to be the only thing sustaining her.

            "I've come to help! Stand aside!" a voice called. Jaime looked up again. It was yet another mystery figure; a woman. Her hair was also silver. A patch covered one of her eyes. A tattoo outlined the other. A hood covered her head, and a sniper rifle was slung across her back.

            "Y'stay away! Fuckin' sniper! That's why she's dyin'!" Jaime babbled incoherently. The woman ignored his words, and dropped down on one knee.

            "If you want her to live, then shut your mouth!" she snapped, and pulled out a syringe from a pouch. She began to prepare it for injection.

            "Don't you fuckin'...." but before Jaime could finish, the woman stuck the needle in Satya's side. She gave a gasp, and arched her back before settling back down. Her eyelids drooped, no longer in a perpetual state of shock. Her face relaxed. Her breathing no longer had a wheeze to it. The woman looked Satya over.

            "She's stabilized for now. She needs to see a proper medic." The woman continued to stare at Satya for a moment before turning her attention to Jaime and Lució.

            "Lady, who the hell are you?" Lució asked. Jaime wanted to know as well. She didn't look like Talon, and he assumed an actual enemy wouldn't have just helped stabilize her. There was something familiar about the woman's face. Jaime squinted, and tried to think why.

            "Someone who didn't expect to stumble upon a firefight!" she stated.

            "I know you're not Talon, and you certainly don't look like Helix... who are you?" she added. Jaime didn't give a shit. He chose instead to wipe his hand on his jeans, hold Satya's limp hand, and leave those questions to Lució.

            "Friends of a Helix agent. Talon took this guy here. We wanted to get him back, so Helix came and helped our team. We've got a medic comin', but she's a little pinned down from what it sounds like," Lució answered, knowing better than to mention Overwatch outright.

            "Call me Ana... You! The captive! Why did Talon take you? Please! It's important that I know," she asked.

            "Fuck if I know!" Jaime lied. _Fuck off! Like I'd tell you!_ He probably would have been a touch more compliant if Satya wasn't still hovering close to death's door. Ana's face softened.

            "I have a hard time believing that, considering the great lengths and sacrifices your friends went through to break you out," she replied. Jaime tried to think of what Satya would say were the tables turned.

            "The usual. Had some information they wanted. Kinda' stuff can't rightly tell someone I don't know," he answered. Ana deemed it an acceptable answer.

            "I thought as much. My partner and I have been keeping an eye on this area for weeks, but then we hear it coming under attack. But an enemy of an enemy is a friend, I suppose. Your medic? What does she look like? Perhaps I can help lead her over here and provide cover?" she offered. She was surprisingly gracious. 

            "You'll know 'er. Look for an actual angel floatin’ around. Got wings. Name's Mercy," Jaime quickly replied, hoping the woman would run off to find her. She didn't. She stood in place, and the look on her face spoke for her. She knew Angela. There was no mistaking it. Even more surprising was that she knew Angela’s codename.

            "Did you say..." Ana began to ask, but they heard someone running up. It was the mystery man who'd chased after Reaper. He pulled his visor up, and removed the lower panel to his mask. A scarred face stared back at them.

            "Damn coward ran off again! Where's Lacroix?!" the man barked. Ana's attention went back to where Widowmaker stood only minutes ago. Jaime had witnessed her drop. Was she hit by a stray bullet? _Too good fer th'likes a her! Wouldn't mind takin' a RIPtire t'that hag!_  Ana brought down a visor of her own that covered her entire face. She snapped it back up a moment later. Ana began hissing in a language Jaime didn't understand.

            "I darted her twice! That should have knocked her cold for an hour at least!" Ana growled. The man hissed a few obscenities of his own, but seemed to finally notice Jaime, Lució, and the barely-stable Satya.

            "Who the hell are you?" the man gruffly ask.

            "Fucking Christ, not again! Listen, mate! She's dyin', alright! I'll fuckin' find Mercy m'self if I have to!" Jaime barked back. _Stop wastin' my fuckin' time!_ The name Mercy triggered the man as well. He looked over at Ana.

            "Jack! It's her! I think..." Ana started, and the two paused to scan the battle still commencing far outside the prison walls.

            "FUCKING CHRIST, WE'RE OVERWATCH! THERE! YOU HAPPY?! I JUST NEED HER T'LIVE!" Jaime bellowed. The man named Jack took a step back in surprise.

            "Ana! We got to get out of here! We can't be discovered. Not like this!" Jack instructed. Ana sighed, and dropped back down next to Jaime.

            "Young man, I see you care a great deal for your friend here. I want to stay and help, but if we do, we will only be a distraction to your medic. I'm leaving an extra syringe with you. If she starts wheezing again, give it to her. It only lasts a little while, but it will keep her alive long enough for Angela to arrive. Do you understand?" Ana informed. Jaime didn't understand how they seemed to know Angela by her real name, why they had to leave, nor why the name Overwatch worried them. Perhaps they were not to be trusted? But why did the woman still continue to help? Jaime took the syringe from her, and Ana got back up.

            "We can't run forever, Jack. We need to go back... but now is not the right time." Jack gave a nod of acceptance to Ana, and the pair readied themselves to leave.

            "Who are you?!" Lució asked. It seemed to be the question of the day. The pair turned their backs to them.

            "Just a couple of old soldiers!" Jack replied, and the pair ran off towards the direction of where Widowmaker fell. Jaime watched as they managed to grapple and jump up and over the wall. They were surprisingly nimble and spry for people their age. Jaime turned back to Satya. Her breathing was still labored. She still seemed to be in a state of shock, though at least the terror had vanished from her eyes.

            "Angela's comin' love! Just gotta' hold on a bit longer! Know you can do it! Yer so strong'n brave!" he murmured. He wasn't sure if she could actually hear him, but he prayed that his words were true. His attention turned when he heard the loud thumping steps of Hana's Meka. She came running up, and she was not alone. Like a gift from heaven, Angela floated by her side. She glided over to them on angel wings.

            "My god!" Angela exclaimed, and rushed to Satya's side.

            "I'm sorry! I tried! Did what I could, but it's bad!" Lució apologized. Angela set to work with her caduceus staff. Its gold glow enveloped Satya's broken body. Hana hopped out of her Meka, and came running as well.

            "SYM! Nononono! Oh god!" Hana cried. She stood behind Jaime, and sobbed into her palms. Lució kept emitting a calming pulse from his device to aid Angela further.

            "I need to get her to the ship at once, but first we need to get her to the truck! Hana! If we lay her across your gun arms, can you carry her to the truck?" Angela asked. Hana quickly nodded.

            "Yeah! I did it before in Egypt!" she reminded her, and began to run back to her Meka. Angela activated her own headset.

            "I've got them! Heading to the truck! She's stable, but I need to get her into surgery immediately!" she informed to whomever was listening. She nodded.

            "Thank god! He gave the order to retreat! Helix has the enemy surrounded!" she announced. Jaime stood up on shaky legs, and carefully scooped Satya up. His hands and forearms were soaked with blood, but he didn't care. He laid her across the metal arms of the Meka. Hana wiped the tears from her eyes, and rocketed off towards the breach, with Angela gliding not far behind. Lució skated over, and wrapped an arm across Jaime's back for support.

            "C'mon, Rat. You're in rough shape, too. Let's get you home!" he offered. Jaime walked as fast as possible. He'd run, if he could, but his body still ached, and his legs were too weak. He'd never been so happy to see a truck before. Despite Hog's weakened state, he came jogging up to them, and took over for Lució.

            "Rat, I'm sorry...I...failed you... An' her...too..." Hog wheezed. Jaime shook his head no.

            "You quit. Ain't my bodyguard no more, remember?" Jaime reminded. Hog shook his head no.

            "Still...failed..." he huffed. Jaime wasn't going to waste time arguing. Hog could barely breathe, and he wanted to get back to Satya's side. Hog and Lució helped him up into the back of the semi, and he walked back towards Angela. Satya was laid on top of a blanket while Angela started binding the wound with a roll of gauze. Jesse stood nearby, and when he looked up, he caught Jaime's eye. The cowboy turned, and laid a heavy hand on his shoulder.

            "Angela's got her. She'll be alright," he assured. Lució kneeled down, and tried to assist. He strapped a mask to Satya's mouth and nose, and began to pump the plastic bulb attached to hopefully push more air into her lungs. Jaime sat next to Lució, and once again held Satya's hand. He ran his thumb back and forth, and he watched her eyes slowly close. Angela didn't seem alarmed, so he didn't panic.

            With the rest of the crew finally aboard, they were able to take off for the dropship. His blood began to boil. _Fuck that place! When all this is over, gonna go back m'self, and blow it t'pieces! Gonna' find that Reaper cunt, that tricky bitch Sombra, and that fucking blue hag, and shove a grenade down each a their throats! I'm gonna' burn th'place t'the ground with them all locked inside! Still would be too good fer th'likes a them! I've got a score t'settle, an' they underestimate what I'm capable of!_ In a way, he was relieved. He had agreed to join Overwatch permanently, and now he had a new life's goal and mission that would fit in perfectly. He wouldn't rest until he saw every last Talon fuck dead at his feet.

            The truck bounced along with all the extra weight aboard. Satya let out little gasps from the vibrations, and each one felt like a knife through his heart. _Almost there, love! Y'made it this far! Almost there!_ Each of the team took turns coming up to check on her, save for Lena and Winston, who were up in the cab. Torbörn sat nearby, never taking his eye off her. Hana sat next to Torb. She'd occasionally reach over and give Jaime or Torb a hug, or a pat on the back. Hog remained silent at the other end, but his mask never looked away from her. 

            The ride may have only been a few minutes, or a few hours. He couldn't really tell. It seemed like time had come to a stand-still, but eventually he felt the truck stop, and the crew hopped out to get out of the way. Lena came back guiding a floating stretcher, and she helped Angela transfer Satya once again. Jaime walked onto the dropship; an immensely welcome sight. As he ran over to the first aid station, he saw Angela had begun to draw the curtains closed. He tried pushing his way through, but she stopped him.

            "Jamison, I can't have you in here. I need room to work, and no distractions!" she ordered. That was not to his liking.

            "Don't fuckin' care! Let me in!" he snarled. _Fuckin' bullshit! What if she don't make it?! I need t'be there!_ Angela's face grew stern. Her sympathetic gaze turned stony.

            "You are in no shape to be here as it is. Take your seat," she ordered. He shook his head no, and Angela had enough.

            "Then I will tell you the same thing I told Hog when you were dying from gunshot wounds. If you want her to survive, then get out of my way and have a seat, or I will have Reinhardt assist you!" It was then that he felt the presence of the living titan standing right behind him. Reinhardt was still in his colossal suit of armor, though his helmet had been removed. The metal was discolored from numerous blood splatters. He would have been terrifying, were it not for the forlorn look upon his face.

            "My friend, you need to let Angela vork in peace... for Sym's sake," he gently reminded. Jaime finally realized he was acting out of line. He was exhausted and terrified, and that was why he was being so bullheaded. He gave a nod in defeat, and reluctantly trudged over towards Hog and Hana.

            The most frustrating thing at that moment wasn’t so much listening to Angela work while also not being able to see or help. It was everyone trying to reassure him. Everyone kept taking turns coming up with condolences, or pats or hugs. He took it well enough. They all meant well, but it felt weird being the only one to receive the condolences. Didn’t they know she had friends, too? No one was hugging Torb, or Hog, or Hana. Why was he the only one? While they all eventually walked away to destress in their own fashions, or try to catch a cat-nap, he remained far too frazzled to entertain the idea.

            “I never had a sister…” Hana quietly whispered, mostly to herself. The statement paused his own anger.

            “That’s the problem with family. When you lose them, it hurts so much. Like you, when you were shot. Never thought I could be that scared before. I always thought of fighting like a game. Like no one would ever get hurt. But when they do… Rat… I’m scared…” she quietly admitted. Hana curled up and hugged her knees to her chest. He didn’t know what to do, so he reached over, and wrapped his arm around her.

            “S’alright. Me too,” was all he could manage to say.

           

**.           .           .           .           .**

 

            Jaime could see Satya from the foot of his bed. Upon arriving at the watchpoint, Angela had taken her back into the operating room to finish what she'd started aboard the dropship. Lució guided him and Hog to beds in the infirmary so Angela could take care of them once she was finished with Satya. Jaime hardly noticed as she used her own tools upon him, but eventually he acknowledged that he was feeling better. She told him he'd have to remain overnight for observation. It was just as well. He had no intention of being anywhere else.

            Her breathing was back to normal (relatively speaking), as well as Hog's. He too would be spending his time in observation. Night had already settled over Gibraltar, but Jaime couldn't sleep. He was too afraid to. What if she didn't survive the night? _Why'd ya do it?_ He asked the question to himself a thousand times over as if she would somehow wake up and answer him. Winston wanted to speak with him, but Angela said he and Hog were too weak. He was at least thankful for that. He wasn't mentally ready to relive the past three days. Jaime began to feel his eyes droop, but he tried to fight the physical exhaustion. The halls were quiet. The lights were dimmed. To his surprise though, the door slid open and Hana came padding in.

            "Whatta' you doin' up?" he whispered. Hana nearly jumped at the sound of his voice.

            "Should be asking you the same...but I couldn't sleep. Too worried," she admitted. She carefully lifted a chair, and brought it over next to Satya's bed. Hana reached over and stoked Satya's forehead and cheek.

            "Same. Can't sleep. 'Fraid she might not wake up," he admitted. Hana leaned back in the chair, and looked him over.

            "I'm sorry I left you guys. Thought I'd be a good distraction. Hold off the agents coming towards you guys. Had I been there... it's my fault she's like this," Hana started, and he heard her quietly crying. Jaime couldn't handle it.

            "No. No it ain't. You helped. Weren't yer fault. Fuckin' sniper had a scope on me. She stepped in front. Took th'bullet fer me. My fault fer bein' a fuckin' target," he quietly said. The words made him shudder. Hana let out the tiniest gasp.

            "You both are wrong. None of yer faults. None of ya pulled the goddamn trigger," Hog quietly rumbled. Neither of them seemed surprised he was awake. Jaime remembered Dorado, and how Satya blamed herself for his injuries. He realized he was being hypocritical, but he didn't care.

            "None of ya shoulda' come. Stupid. Ain't worth it," Jaime murmured. At least Hog grunted his agreement in that.

            "Shut your goddamn mouth! You two are a part of this team. Why else would you have signed on as full-time members? Yeah! That's right! She told us! So stop telling me you're not worth it, alright? We won. It came with... came with a cost, but we won! Got you two out of there, and made a serious dent in their ranks! Plus, Helix now has their own proof of Talon’s resurgence, so now the UN can stop dragging their feet and reinstate us! And I heard Angela say Sym's doing alright. Good chance she's going to make it..." Hana said, but trailed off. _Good chance? Means there's a chance that she might not._

Hana seemed to have bounced back significantly from their conversation on the dropship, but then, Hana was always a beacon of positivity. He could see why she and Lucio got along so well. No. Positivity wasn’t quite the right word. Hana was a fighter. When she got knocked down, she always managed to bounce back. And Satya was a fighter, too. She was knocked down. He prayed to whatever god would listen that she too would bounce back.

"Just... do me a favor. Don't be the hero that convinces himself that the only way to keep her safe is to run off and live a life in solitude. That's so cliché," Hana added. Jaime shook his head in confusion.

            "What?"

            "In books and movies, the hero always convinces themselves that the only way they can keep their loved ones safe is to run off so the bad guys don't go after their friends or whatever. It's so stupid, and it NEVER works!" she clarified. Jaime had given that idea only a moment of thought. He wasn't stupid. Running off would only work for a short time, but the fact remained that Reaper, Widowmaker, and Sombra knew who she was and where to find her. While they were interested in him, they wouldn't think twice of targeting her. Leaving her side would only put her in further danger. He knew that if he stayed at the watchpoint, at least he could keep a better eye on her. On everyone, really. He had been ill-prepared for his first encounter with the trio. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

            "Wasn't plannin' on leavin'. ‘Sides, I ain’t the hero here. She is," he replied while motioning to Satya’s bed.

“No. You’re a member of Overwatch. We all are, and that makes you a hero, too!” Hana shot back. _I ain’t no hero. Just a fucking fool who managed t’get his ass caught._ He didn’t want to get into it with Hana, though. It was selfish, really, but it felt nice to have someone think well of him, even if he didn’t think particularly highly of himself at that moment. She thought he was a hero? He didn’t feel terribly heroic right then. If anything, he felt like a giant burden to the team. But Hana was his friend. If she thought he had it in him, then at least he could try.

“If you say so…” he said. His remark seemed to placate Hana well enough, but another worry began to surface. He was supposed to talk to Winston at some point, and fill him in on what happened. Would the gorilla chuck him out after realizing he'd withheld such important artifacts as a core-drive, or the secret that Talon had been chasing him? He wasn't ready to admit that to Hana or even Satya, but the time was rapidly approaching. Despite the worry, he could feel his body beginning to shut down.

            "Good... Look, I know you need sleep more than I do. How about I keep an eye on her for you? I can wake you up if something happens?" Hana offered. Hana was (aside from Hog) his closest friend, and Satya's too. He knew he could trust her. He accepted the offer, shoved the anxiety to the back of his brain, and succumbed to a deep sleep.

            Morning came, and he was feeling remarkably better. Satya was still asleep. Hana had nodded off in the chair, but he wasn't upset. Angela was looking Satya over, and reading the many monitor screens surrounding the bed. The doctor murmured something quietly to herself before making a note on her tablet. She leaned down, and gently shook Hana awake. Hana did a double take.

            "Oh no! I fell asleep! I was supposed to watch her for..." she started to ramble.

            "S'alright. I'm awake now," Jaime cut in. Their heads whipped up with a start, but Angela's face quickly softened with a smile. She finished checking on Satya, and stepped over. 

            "How are you feeling? Any pain?" she asked as she examined his empty saline bag. _Just mental pain._ She reached over, and began to remove the IV needle from the back of his hand.

            "Feelin' alright, I guess. Better than yesterday," he quietly replied. Hana stood up from her chair and stretched.

            "I bet you're ready for a hot meal, yes? Hog will probably be hungry, too," Angela commented, and proceeded to examine his eyes with a small flashlight. It was blinding, but he didn’t care.

            "Kinda' not ready t'leave, actually," he answered. Angela looked back over at Satya’s bed, and let out a small sigh.

            "No, I suppose not. I will have food sent over," she replied.

            "I'll get some. Just gonna' change really quick first, okay?" Hana offered, and swiftly left the infirmary. Angela began to turn towards Hog.

            "When's she gonna' wake up?" Jaime asked. The doctor looked back at him, and then to Satya. Angela sighed again.

            "Sweetheart... she's doing alright. I know it doesn't look like it right now, but she's fighting. I'm keeping her sedated for a bit while she recovers. You have to understand, not everyone heals as quickly as you. It's going to be a while for her, so I can’t really give you an answer just yet," she explained. Jaime figured that would be her reply, and remained silent while Angela looked Hog over. She gave him the slightest jostle, and Hog shook his head as he roused from sleep.

            "I'm sorry dear, but I just wanted to check your vitals. Is that alright?" she asked ever so sweetly. Hog snorted a bit and cleared his throat. He gave a nod of acceptance. Angela proceeded to look at his monitors, and removed his IV as well. She took a moment to listen to his chest with a stethoscope.

            "You sound much better. Hana is going to bring some food up if you like, or..." she began, but he waved his hand a bit. He slowly got up, and gave a heavy huff.

            "S'alright. Wouldn't mind standin' an' walkin' a bit... I'll be back later..." he replied, and looked over at Satya. Angela gave him a soft smile.

            "I understand, though please take it easy today. If you push yourself too hard, you may find yourself back here not by choice," she replied with the tiniest bit of a chuckle. Hog gave Jaime a nod, and lumbered out of the infirmary. A moment later, a knock sounded on the door. Winston came in.

            "Fawkes, I need to speak with you, if you're feeling up to it," Winston asked. _I ain't ever gonna' feel up to it, so I might as well get it over with..._

            "Winston, I'd rather you hold off until he's a little less..." Angela began, but Jaime shook his head no.

            "S'alright. Needs t'be said," Jaime cut in. He felt bad for speaking over her so much, but there was no point dragging it out. Angela hissed out a worried breath, but acquiesced to his decision. She exited the infirmary, leaving Jaime to Winston's silence and the repetative beep of Satya's monitors. Winston busied himself by looking Satya over.

            "I need to know what happened. I'm hearing different stories from different people. Hog told me on the ship that he didn't see or hear much until your rescue. From what I understand, you were interrogated by the enemy?"

            "Interrogated? That a fancy word fer gettin' the shit kicked outta' me, an’ nearly beaten t’death?" Jaime grimaced.

            "If this is going to be too difficult..."

            "No. No, I gotcha'. S'important. Yeah. They ‘interrogated’ me. Specially that Reaper creep. Don't know if you saw 'im. Bloke in black with the skull mask. Able to float around like a bloody ghost..." Jaime started. Winston's eyes narrowed at the mention of him.

            "Yes. He and I have... met. Were they asking about Overwatch?" Jaime shook his head no, and Winston seemed genuinely surprised.

            "Think they're more than aware of us by now. Grabbed me an' Hog t'lure you lot out. Don't think they expected ya t'show up with a bleedin' army, though." Winston took a seat upon the bed Hog had just vacated.

            "I don't mean to sound rude, but if they wanted to merely draw us out, they would have taken someone else. You say they didn't ask about us. What did they ask about?" Winston questioned. Jaime rubbed the back of his head and neck. _"Where is it? Do you know what it does? Tell me and this will stop"._ Reaper's questions ran a continuous loop in his mind, and he shuddered at the memory of the pain he'd been in.

            "They wanted... fuck... look mate, I found somethin' a while back. Somethin' they wanted, apparently. Didn't know it at the time, though. They started chasin' me an' Hog. Didn't know who Talon was at first. All I knew was they wanted me dead. Ran a long time 'fore we were able t'shake 'em. Thought we'd ditched 'em fer good. At least, those two creeps, anyways. The ghost bloke and that blue-skinned bitch. Turns out, I was wrong, and they still wanted it. And they found us." Winston laced his fingers and rested them on his knee.

            "What did you find?"

            "Mate, I didn't know what it even WAS until they nabbed us. I just knew..."

            "Jamison... what did you find?" Winston repeated. _Just... just fuckin' say it._

            "An Omnium core-drive..." he answered. Winston's eyes widened. He'd never seen the ape look so surprised before.

            "How?!" was all Winston managed to stammer.

            "Went into the Omnium. Th'one that blew. Found a freshly dead body holdin' somethin'... thought it was somethin' big. Was gonna' try t'sell it. Try an' get outta' Junkertown fer good. Talon started chasin' me once I got out. I knew if it was somethin' they were after, it was important. Problem was, I didn't know how t'get rid of it." Winston's shocked face never changed through his explanation.

            "You... is the core-drive HERE?!" Winston asked. Jaime nodded, and Winston almost looked faint.

            "Yeah. Y'want it? Fuckin' have it! Ain't been nothin' but trouble since day one! Like I said, didn't even know what th'fuck it WAS till that bitch let 'er tongue slip. All I wanted was t'lie low. S'why we joined up. Wanted that clean record, an' Talon an' bounty hunters wouldn't think twice t'look fer us here now, would they? Then that fuckin' hacker bitch dug up our info after her deal with Vishkar went south. Found us hidin' with you, an'..." Winston held his hands up to pause him.

            "Wait... so we have confirmation that the same hacker from the Vishkar incident is working with Talon? ...Lució mentioned the hacker seemed to know you. Is this true?" Winston asked, needing a moment to collect himself from all the new information that was coming to light. _Fuckin' why not?_

"Yeah. Sombra. Hired me an' Hog a while back t'make a big distraction. Wanted us t'rob the bank in Dorado so she could do whatever the fuck... I dunno'. Hacker shit. Never really asked her what she was plannin’. Didn’t really care at the time. She was s'pose ta clear our records. But she didn't. Only nabbed us a bigger bounty, an' more trouble. She was the one that took us. Darted us in the alley. Turned us over t'her new Talon friends," Jaime elaborated. Winston closed his eyes, and took in a steadying breath.

            "Alright. One more question. Lució mentioned that you were aided by two mystery soldiers. Is this true?" Winston asked. Jaime nodded.

            "Yeah. We'd be dead if it weren't for 'em. Some bloke with a scarred face an' white hair, an' some old shiela with an' eyepatch an' a tattoo 'round her eye like... like Pharah!" And suddenly he realized why Ana seemed so familiar. In her face, he could see it. She was Pharah's mother. There was no doubt in his mind.

            "Fawkes... I need to know their names. Lució doesn't remember. He was too focused on keeping Vaswani alive. Do you happen to remember?"

            "Ana... Ana and Jack. Seemed t'know the Reaper bloke and Widowmaker. Called 'em Reyes an' Lacroix," he informed. His memory had always been hit or miss with some things, but not the memory of yesterday. Everything about that moment was permanently burned into his brain. He'd never forget a second of it. Winston immediately hopped off the bed, and ran his leathery palm over the fur on his head. It all seemed to be too much for the ape to take in. He turned and looked at Jaime.

            "When you have fully recovered, I need you to bring me the core-drive at once. I have... a lot to process..." he instructed. Jaime was shocked that the ape didn't roar at him for keeping secrets for so long, or for hiding something as important as a core-drive.

            "You ain't... ain't mad that I didn't tell ya this till now?" Jaime quietly asked. Winston's nostrils flared, and he looked over both him and Satya. Jaime was still covered in Satya's blood. He'd washed off as best as he could. His shirt had been a lost cause, and his pants would need to be discarded as soon as possible. He still had scars and bruises that didn't manage to vanish right away. He looked like hell.

            "While I wish you had told me everything much sooner... I think you've suffered enough. I'm not going to subject a team member to a disciplinary hearing for decisions that were made prior to joining. Particularly not after being subjected to such... treatment... I need to go. There's much that needs to be discussed. Rest up, and bring me that drive as soon as possible," Winston instructed. He left without another word. Jaime didn't know how to feel, if he were to be honest with himself. He'd stupidly held on to the damn drive with the intention of one day finding the right buyer for it. For over two years, it had been nothing but a burden, and this time around, it nearly cost him his life. It nearly cost Satya hers, too. 

            In a way, it felt good to finally get everything out in the open. It wouldn't stop Talon from continuing to go after him, but at least Winston had been made aware. What Winston planned to do with the device was anyone's guess, but Jaime felt confident he'd do what was right. Destroy it? Perhaps. Return it to the Omnics? He hoped not. Realistically, though, he wasn't even sure what a core-drive even did. To him, it was just a useless stick that could have been his ticket out, but in a way, it had been. He and Hog made it out of Junkertown with the hopes of selling it quick, but when that didn't happen, they merely resorted to drumming up some business of their own. Now, they didn't need that sort of life. Hog said it best back in their cells. _"Got out of Junkertown. S'all I ever wanted."_ Well, they had made it out, and there really was no going back.

            The door slid back open. Hana was carrying a tray with a couple of plates filled with a breakfast spread. He hadn't realized how ravenous he truly was until the aroma of pancakes and sausage links hit his nose. She placed the tray on a rolling table that was meant for bedridden patients, and pushed it over so the spread lay before him. She climbed up on the foot of his bed, and began to tuck in.

            "Jesse put strawberries in yours," she piped between bites.

Jaime sliced off a bite with the side of his fork. Too much had happened in such a short amount of time, but the small piece of normalcy was greatly welcomed. Breakfast with a friend… It wasn’t a typical morning, but Hana’s presence was immensely appreciated. So was Jesse’s cooking, and being back inside the watchpoint. Even just talking to Winston had made him feel better. Now he just needed Satya to wake up. That’s all he really wanted. Jaime popped the bite of pancake into his mouth, and savored the sweet flavor. It was just what he needed. It was a reminder that things would eventually turn back to normal. Or, as close to normal as things were ever likely to get. The burden of the drive would soon be lifted. He took a sip of his orange juice, and sighed.

            "Must be Friday."


	62. Chapter 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime gives Winston the core-drive, but is offered something in exchange that he hadn't anticipated. Satya finally wakes up. The watchpoint is turned on its head with unexpected news.

            The infirmary almost became a second home to him. Not by choice, of course. He only left to change out of his blood-splattered clothes, and to thoroughly clean the joints of his prosthetics. He grabbed all of his meals to go. Jaime took his vigilance-duty seriously. He wouldn't leave until he saw her wake up with his own eyes. The only other task he had planned was to bring the core-drive to Winston, but every time he tried to approach the ape's office, the door had been locked, and he could hear him on the phone or video chat with somebody different. Satya's own small office remained empty, and he hated walking by it. After two days of him having virtually no luck catching his boss, he began to wonder if Winston might have forgotten. After all, their whole conversation had brought so many things to light, it very well could have been the case. One thing was certain, though. Winston knew the mystery soldiers that had come to their aid, and they knew about Overwatch. 

            Jaime never said a word about it to anybody, and neither did Lució. That was one order that they both did manage to receive. Winston didn't want word getting out about what had happened without first substantiating the story. Two days, and still no debriefing. He'd grown impatient, and decided he'd have Hog keep an eye on Satya so he could wait for the opportunity. Hog agreed, and took over watch in the infirmary while Jaime went to his room to retrieve the drive.

            He had only stepped foot in their room previously just long enough to grab a change of clothes. This time around, he paused. It was neat, and tidy. It didn't look lived-in. He stared at the freshly-made bed. Had things been different, he could have been lying down with her all curled-up alongside him. They could have been sharing sweet stories and funny anecdotes. Perhaps they'd share a secret or two with each other. And later? He shook his head to drive away the thoughts of what could have been, and focused instead on why he came in the first place. Jaime stood over his nightstand, and pulled the toy mice out of their little bed. He removed the hand-stitched mattress out of the box, and underneath it waited; the core-drive.

            The core-drive was so insignificant-looking. One would assume it was nothing more than a piece of scrap. And yet, the unassuming piece of scrap had made him a target. He'd fought to keep it safe, and nearly died on multiple occasions. He plucked it from the box and held it up between his thumb and index finger. _We almost died, and fer what? This stupid piece a shit?_ He gripped it tightly in his palm, and returned the mice back to their little bed. _Ain't gonna' be my problem no more. Gonna' wash m'hands of it. Just like Junkertown. Just like m'record._

            He sat outside Winston's office, and waited. Winston's voice was muffled, but he was having a conversation with someone. After a moment, he heard another person speak. _No. Two people... is he? No... how'd he know who t'call? Or, did they call?_ The more he concentrated, the more details he could infer. It was indeed a man and a woman he was conversing with. They spoke for a long time, and Jaime grew impatient. He just wanted to give the core-drive to Winston, and get back to Satya. He tapped his foot in annoyance, and waited... and waited... and waited... After an hour, he'd had enough. He walked up to Winston's door, and gave it a couple pounding knocks. Winston didn't answer right away, but he heard a shuffle and the sound of calls ending. The door slid open, and the gorilla seemed to be ready to berate whoever had interrupted him. As soon as he saw that it was him, however, he calmed down, and welcomed him in. Jaime took a seat in front of Winston's desk, and heard the door slide shut behind him.

            "You brought the drive, I assume?" Winston stated. Jaime nodded, and reached into his pocket. Winston almost seemed annoyed that he transported something so important in just his pocket, but Jaime didn't care. He held the drive in his palm and looked down at it. _You caused me nothin' but trouble. Ain't too sad t'see you go!_  But he suddenly had some second thoughts start to creep up.

            "What's gonna' happen to it?" he asked. Winston snorted in exasperation. Not at Jaime, but at the problems he was contending with regarding the device.

            "I'm still... unsure. I have a few different ideas, and I wish to weigh my options. This... needs to be handled delicately. In the meantime, I am storing it more securely here, where I will be able to keep an eye on it. I want to assure you that I will only hand it over to the most capable hands, as this..." Jaime held his empty hand up to stop Winston.

            "Y'know what, Mate? On second thought, maybe fer once it might be better if I DON'T know, alright? Just... just take th'damn thing!" he said, thrusting his hand out to the ape. Winston stared at his open palm for just a moment, and took the drive. He held it up in front of his eyes, and studied it with a sense of awe. After a moment, Winston shook his head, and remembered that he was still sitting across from him. Winston pulled out a metal case with a lock, and placed the drive inside. He then tucked the box into his top drawer. Jaime waited for his dismissal, but the gorilla seemed to have more to say. He laced his leathery fingers together, and stared at him for a moment.

            "That was incredibly generous of you," Winston started. Jaime raised an eyebrow.

            "Yeah. Like I said, don't want it no more. More trouble than it's worth," he replied. Winston seemed to be thinking things over in his head.

            "I know you have agreed to sign on when your contract is up in exchange for a clean record, but perhaps... with a donation such as this... Perhaps I could arrange that before your current contract ends. Possibly for Hog as well. You wouldn't have to permanently sign on..." Winston started. There it was. The stupid drive had finally bought his ticket to freedom. No more record. No more bounty. No more bounty hunters or police... but he wouldn't truly be free, would he? Talon still wanted him dead. He had a hard time believing that getting rid of the drive would keep them from targeting him. Talon could still come for him and Satya, and everyone on the team, really. But maybe he could shake them. He did it once before, after all. _But look what that got me. An' now Sombra's on their team? Ain't nowhere t'hide fer long. An' I know Hog ain't leavin'._

            "As before, you still have some time to think it over. You still have three weeks left in your contracts as it is. Perhaps you'd like some time to discuss this with Roadhog, and..." Winston continued, but Jaime shook his head no.

            "I don't speak fer Hog no more. He chose t'stay, an' I know he ain't budgin'... an' neither am I," Jaime explained. Winston seemed a touch shocked, but his face settled to one of appraisal.

            "I'm surprised, actually. I thought... Isn't that what you wanted?" Winston asked. Jaime rubbed his chin in his own moment of self-reflection.

            "Yeah. Yeah, it was. Wanted outta' Junkertown. Wanted ta erase my mistakes. Wanted t'go legit, an' put it all behind me. S'why I'm stayin', mate. Ain't gonna' make it out there, but here? Here's... here's home," he elaborated. Winston shook his head with a small chuckle.

            "Well! If you had told me a year ago that we’d be having this conversation, I'd be asking someone to check me into the nearest mental health facility!" Winston continued to chuckle, and Jaime let out a weary laugh himself. After the laughter died down, Jaime's eyes began to grow molten again.

            "'Sides, mate... I got a score t'settle, an' I sure as fuck can't do it on my own." Winston gave a slight nod, and returned the same fiery gaze.

            "I think it's safe to say that we all feel that way right about now," he replied. The ape dismissed him, and Jaime slowly got out of his seat. He heard Winston activate Athena as he prepared to leave.

            "Athena... can you please locate Agent Amari, and tell her to come see me? I have a private matter I wish to discuss..."

**.           .           .           .           .**

Jaime settled into the chair next to her hospital bed. Torbörn had just left after his visit to the infirmary. He had left behind an arrangement of flowers next to her bed. He said it was for when she woke up. _But what if she don't?_ He pushed that repetitive worry out of his head. Angela had mentioned that morning before he left to see Winston that she seemed to make steady progress in her recovery. Provided that nothing happened, she'd probably be out of the medical wing in as little as two weeks, and back to work in her office in three. It'd be a little longer before she could take part in missions again, though Jaime preferred she stay out of those altogether.

            It wasn't that he didn't think her capable. She managed to infiltrate the compound with a Meka following behind with almost no one noticing. That took skill, to be sure. She also managed to locate him and Hog, and according to Hana and Lució, she had kicked some serious ass along the way. He wouldn't deny she was more than able, but she still nearly died. He couldn't handle the thought of her returning to the field so quickly, if ever. When it came to heavy combat, there were just too many factors to contend with.

            The thing that had frustrated him the most was the nature in which it all happened. She had stepped in front of him. She had willingly thrown herself in the bullet's path to save him. He figured that it went without saying that her life was worth more than his. He had always been expendable. He remembered her telling him her ideas and plans for when Overwatch was fully reinstated. She wanted to help rebuild areas that had been destroyed by Talon or Omnic activity. She said she wanted to make the world a better place. She had such beautiful dreams... and all those dreams and aspirations nearly died with her.

            The room was silent, save for the beep of her monitors. The chair only squeaked when he shifted. Hana let him borrow some books, which actually helped take his mind off the negative. He grabbed another book from her pile, and flicked through a few pages. His eyes were too tired to focus on the minuscule print at that point, so he dug into his canvas bag that hung from the side of his chair. He pulled out his sketchbook and pencils. The lighting wasn't entirely the best, but Satya's face seemed so serene. He could tell she was dreaming, and he wanted to know what about. _Probably somethin' beautiful an' perfect._ He had just started the last bit of shading when he heard a rustle from her bed. He hadn't seen or heard her shift in her sleep until then, and he looked up from his sketch pad. Her head slowly turned, and her eyelids began to open. The gold in her eyes was as welcome as a sunrise after a long cold night. Her lips slowly parted.

            "Jaime?" Her voice was nearly a whisper, but it managed to fill the room. He nearly jumped out of his seat. The sketchbook and pencil where quickly tossed on the bed behind him.

            "Right here, love!" he whispered back with a smile. God, he'd never been so relieved! His heart raced at the sight of her being awake. He wanted to take her hand, but she still had her IV in, so he chose instead to cup the side of her face.

            "Where... where am I?" she asked. She seemed disoriented, and he wasn't surprised.

            "In the med bay, love. Y'got shot. Do ya remember?" he answered. Satya opened her eyes a bit further, and they darted around a bit.

            "No... but I feel like it..." she slowly replied with a grimace. Jaime let out a strained chuckle. A thought seemed to occur to her.

            "You... you were taken... I remember." Jaime nodded, and she squinted her eyes shut. _No! No, c'mon! Y'just opened 'em! Don't close 'em again!_ Her face relaxed, and she opened them again.

            "They took you... so we rescued you... We were winning, right?" she asked. Jaime confirmed her memory. Her eyes suddenly grew wide. It was all finally coming back to her.

            "You... she.... she was going to kill you!" she quietly gasped. Jaime ran his thumb across her cheekbone.

            "Yeah... and then ya... ya got in th'way. S'why you're here now," he informed. Satya seemed to regain some more of her cognitive faculties.

            "Is Hog alright? And the team! Are they alright?" she asked. Jaime nodded.

            "Yeah. Got out alright. No one here seriously hurt... except you." Satya looked away for just a moment. Jaime snapped his own eyes shut. He had to know. He had to ask her the question that had eaten away at him from the very start.

            "Satya... why'd y'do that? Why did ya step in front of me?" He was surprised to find a bit of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

            "For what it is worth, it was not my intention to get shot. I was trying to put up a shield to stop the bullet," she smirked. Jaime ground his teeth.

            "I'm bein' serious, Satya!" he snapped, and then immediately regretted it. _Christ, she just woke up! What th'fucking am I doin'?!_ The smile vanished from her face, and he tried shrinking away from her.

            "Jaime?"

            "Fuck! Just... don't you ever do that again!" He could feel his eyes begin to burn, and her own appeared glassy.

            "Then don't get captured!" she hissed right back.

            "Y'don't get it, do ya? I ain't... You're more important than me!" Satya's brow furrowed.

            "No! Don't you dare! Don't you dare say that! I shape my world as I see fit, and you are part of it! As is Hana, and Hog, and this team! I will not allow it to be ripped apart," she murmured. Her tears ran down her cheeks, and so too did his.

            "I ain't worth it..." he tried again. He had to look away. He didn't know why. A trembling hand reached over, and fingertips touched his chin. She delicately turned his head to look at her.

            "So long as you love me, don't you ever say that again. As you have fought for me, so I will fight for you." Christ, he just wanted to hold her; proper hold her. He wanted to take her in his arms, and never let go. He wanted to scoop her up, and burry his face in her neck. He wanted to feel her own arms wrapped around him, and to feel her heart beat in tandem his.

            "I just... don't scare me like that! I can't take it! I can't..." and he could no longer control himself. He let go of the terror that had accumulated over the past few days; his own pain and torment, the fear of his own death, and then the fear of hers. He broke down, and slumped forward with his head resting in her lap. It was the first time he'd managed to properly cry since the Outback. His shoulders shook with each wracking sob.

            "I'm so sorry... it's my stupid fault. I got caught! I pissed 'er off, an' made ya a target, an..." but she gently laid her hand upon the top of his head.

            "Jaime... you once told me not to blame myself, and now I ask that you follow your own advice. You were not the one who fired the shot. You know this," she reminded. Jaime reluctantly nodded. She began to slowly stroke his head as he kept his face buried in her lap.

            "Get it all out now. Tomorrow will be a fresh start. We will put this behind us," she instructed. He didn't remember right away, but she used his very own words to aid him. Jaime didn't move his head for a while. The clock ticked away while Satya ran her shaking hand over his head.

            "Jaime... I'm so tired. I need... need more sleep," she finally said. He pulled away to look at her. Her eyes were half closed, and she was softly smiling at him. It held a mixture of both sadness and relief. He wiped away the last couple tears with the heel of his palm, and weakly smiled back.

            "Yeah. Yeah. Sorry. Angela said y'need yer rest. Just... just happy t'see ya' wake up. Even if it's just fer a bit," he said. Satya gave the smallest nod, and he saw her struggling to keep her eyes open.

            "Go back t'sleep, love. Have good dreams, alright?" he instructed. A small yawn escaped her.

            "Knowing we're here? I think I'll be able to comply."

**.           .           .           .           .**

 

            What a difference a week could make. It all started with Satya slowly making her recovery. Day by day, she'd wake and speak for small bits and pieces of time. As her healing progressed, she could stay awake for longer periods. She could talk with her visitors, and smile. Hana and Hog visited every day. Jaime (with Angela's permission) had taken up the empty bed next to her. Eventually, she could sit up, and entertain such activities as reading, and playing card games. Jesse had come to visit at one point, and tried teaching Jaime, Hana, and Satya how to play Blackjack. She did remarkably well.

            "Jeez, Sym! I'd swear you're countin' cards or somethin'!" Jesse chuckled as she once again managed to score a haul of candy. She innocently looked up from her pile of sweets. She seemed confused.

            "I do not understand. Isn't that what you're supposed to do?" she asked. Jesse burst into a laughing fit.

            "Damn, girl! When you're all better, I'm taking you with me to Vegas!" the cowboy chuckled.

            Partway through the week (and Satya's recovery), the watchpoint was turned on its head. The older members and Pharah had been called down to the debriefing room for a private meeting with Winston. The room itself erupted with chaotic shouts, screams, and cries. At least, that's what Hana had told him. Jaime barely left Satya's side as it was, so his friends became his temporary news source. A couple hours after the meeting with the older members, Athena called over the speakers.

            "Attention all new personnel. There will be a mandatory meeting in one hour." Jaime was curious as to why there were two separate meetings, although he had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with the two mystery soldiers, Jack and Ana. With all the turbulence around him, he'd nearly forgotten that he'd even met the woman that was most likely Pharah's mother. _That'd explain the screamin' an' hollerin', though._

            As they filed in, the small group all crowded towards the front. Jaime wanted to hear everything so he could properly relay it to Satya. Winston entered, and walked in his usual silence. Whenever Winston came in that way, it always meant something truly serious was about to be discussed. It was usually in the team's best interest to immediately stop talking and pay attention. The gorilla brought up a translucent screen.

            "Athena, dim the lights, please." Winston instructed. The computer complied. The light at his podium illuminated his face. Jaime didn't realize that gorillas could also look haggard when stressed. He felt guilty, in a way, though it felt nice to know he wasn't the only one who looked and felt like a walking train wreck.

            "The mission was... a success, despite some setbacks. We discovered information concerning the hacker. A whole lot more than we bargained for, actually. The hacker from the Vishkar incident is the very same as the one we followed in the Oasis mission." Winston explained. No one said a word. It had been speculated, and most of the team operated under that assumption.

            "The hacker now works for Talon. We have a name; Sombra." he said, while bringing up a blurry photo of her taken from a security camera, "We also have a name for two of their special agents; Reaper, and Widowmaker." He brought up two more blurry photos; most likely from body cameras from Helix agents. Jaime noticed Zarya's back straighten, and her eyes grew wide at the photo of the sinister computer whiz. Did she know Sombra, too? He'd have to remember to ask her the next time he saw her.

            "We discovered a possible end-goal for Talon. A reason for doing the things they do. They are looking for an Omnium core-drive," he added. The other team members looked shocked. They all seemed to know what a core-drive actually did. He wished he could return the sentiment. Winston, thankfully, left out the part he and Hog had played in it all.

            "I speculate they want to activate dormant Omniums, but that is a matter that will need to be further looked into." Jaime gripped the arms of his chair fiercely. The world was already waiting with baited breath to see if the two Omnic incidents were true harbingers of another crisis, or lone uprisings. But if Talon could truly start a chain reaction? _Guess we're gettin' this Petras shit figured out just in time!_  He didn't realize a room could grow any more silent, but somehow they managed.

            "Well, this is proceeding much more smoothly than the last meeting... alright. Continuing. I asked Jamison and Lució to remain silent on the subject, but while they were aiding Satya back at the prison, they were approached by two unknown soldiers. They weren't affiliated with either Talon, nor Helix. They helped keep cover for them until Angela and Hana almost arrived, at which point, they fled. Come to find out, those mystery soldiers weren't entirely unknown. They're actually Jack Morrison and Ana Amari." At that point, the people around began to cut in.

            "Fareeha's mother?!" Zarya nearly bellowed.

            "And the old strike commander? But... but they were both supposed to be dead!" Hana cut in.

            "This is unreal! I didn't know that was who I was talkin' to!" Lució stammered. The commotion settled rather quickly, and Winston looked incredibly relieved when it did.

            "Yes. It is indeed her mother and the old strike commander... and they actually contacted me the other day... they're accepting the Recall... and I'm planning to step down..." Jaws dropped. Mouths hung agape. Jaime was equal parts surprised and not. Winston was a scientist, after all. Leading a team like Overwatch was most likely not something he ever anticipated doing. It was a responsibility he willingly took on, but it had clearly taken its toll on him, both mentally and physically. Yes, it wasn't entirely shocking, but Jaime still hadn't expected him to actually utter those words.

            "When the act is fully repealed, I'm having Morrison take over. He has already agreed to it. I'll still be assisting with guiding day to day operations, but he'll be the one calling the shots from there on out. Please know I wouldn't do this if I didn't think of him as the most capable member to do so. He and Ana have been trailing and gathering intel for a while now, and I think we'll finally be able to act upon it," the gorilla added. Winston continued to elaborate on a few more details, but there was so much to contemplate and process. He told them the two new members would be arriving (or rather, returning) the day after next, and he told everyone they were to take as much time as was necessary to come to terms with all that was happening. _Don't think that'll happen any time soon fer me._ The meeting concluded. The few newer members trickled out while muttering to each other. Zarya stayed behind to speak privately with Winston. She seemed absolutely livid, but not at their superior. He heard her mumble Sombra's name to the ape. _So there is somethin' with her!_

Back in the infirmary, Torbörn sat at Satya’s bedside. They looked up from their conversation, and he already knew what they were discussing. He was filling her in on the details from the two meetings. Satya looked bewildered by all the news, while Torbörn appeared still surprised at the very words he was relaying. 

            "Meetin' all wrapped up?" Torb asked, stating the obvious. Jaime gave him a nod, and plopped down on the bed on the other side of them. 

            "Poor Winston. He must be so tired if he is indeed planning to step down," Satya commented. Jaime gave another nod.

            "Yeah. Ain't gonna' lie. He looked like shit at th'meetin'," Jaime remarked. Satya rubbed her chin in thought.

            "I'd like to do something for him. I'd like to surprise him with a nice gift of some sort," Satya stated mostly to herself. She brushed the notion aside when Torbörn stood up from his seat.

            "Twiggy here can fill ya in on de rest. I need t'go. Reinhardt an' Jesse wanna' talk some t'ings over. Lotta'... Lot ter go over, y'know?" he muttered.

            "Of course. Thank you for keeping me informed," she replied. Torb left, and Satya let out a long sigh as she stared up at the ceiling.

            "Everything is changing now, isn't it?" she asked. He knew the question was rhetorical, but didn't stop himself from answering.

            "Not everythin'. Still got me. Still got Hog, an' Pipsqueak. Still got th'team. Still got this place," he replied. Satya smiled for a moment, but let out another sigh. Out of nowhere, she decided to change the subject.

            "Jaime? What do you know about hot tubs?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This 'ship' is coming to port! Stay tuned for the thrilling conclusion of First Name Basis!


	63. Chapter 63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team goes out on a quick follow-up mission to the prison, and Jaime hopes to find some closure. Satya prepares to leave the medical wing, but Jaime is no where to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics: "No One"- Joydrop

_"So distinct, and beautiful,_

            _I remember every single word said to me._

_I realize the meaning of love_

_Is a place away and above_

_The limitations of my being._

_Wait for it. Wait for the drop._

_Feel the size, the weight,_

_And the distance from eye to cheek._

_I know too well that I depend on_

_Sensory memory cravings for time._

_Timeless, stood in our white heat._

_I'll wait for you. Come to me again._

_There is no one for me after you._

_No one who took the time_

_To understand my stone cold point of view,_

_The self-destruct shadow,_

_And how pain turns to truth.”_

**.           .           .           .           .**

Transitioning to new leadership wasn't exactly easy for Jaime. Winston had been his first real boss outside of himself. He never counted the people who hired him for side-jobs. After all, they were paying him for a particular service; not full-time employment. 

            Jack Morrison wasn't exactly in charge at that moment, but Winston was already letting him plan and lead the next mission. The first couple days following his and Ana's return had been downright awkward at best. Ana spent most of her time holed-up with Pharah as the mother and daughter had MUCH to discuss. The original members who had once stood by Jack’s side were once again monopolizing his time with reminiscing and things of the like. This left Jaime, Hog, and the few other "new hires" with little else to do. It was just as well, as he was still living out of the infirmary next to Satya.

            She'd been bedridden for a week, but her progress was steady. After the first seven days, Angela allowed her to get out of bed on her own for a little bit of walking, provided she stayed within the medical wing. She didn't want her to overdo it when she was healing up so nicely. Partway through her second week of unfortunate confinement, Jaime had to load up the dropship.

            "They are certain that no Talon agents remain?" Satya asked, worried. Jaime gave a nod.

            "Yeah. That Morrison bloke said they watched what was left a Talon clear out after Helix finished up there. Seems those three fucks managed t'get out, too." He said the last bit with a growl. Those were the three he'd make sure to keep his eye out for. He had special plans for them.

            "I worry, is all..." she murmured, and folded her hands in her lap.

            "Don't be. No one there. Just doin' some diggin' is all. See if we can find anythin'. Helix didn't touch th'inside, so who knows what got left behind." he replied.

            "And the grenades?" Jaime grimaced at her observation. He should have waited until he got on the dropship to suit up. In the back of his mind, he was almost excited at the prospect of stumbling upon a Talon agent... or even the blue witch they called Widowmaker.

            "Just... a... preparin' fer worst case scenarios, y'know? Door might need t'be blown open!" he fibbed.

            "It just seems too soon for you and Hog to return to... that place. But, I suppose it may be a form of closure. Please be safe. If you find it too painful, do not force yourself. You will heal in your own time," she reminded him.

            "Talkin' t’Doctor Pennson again?" he guessed. She had made a handful of calls to the acquaintance she made back in London. The doctor had been shocked at first that she was still alive, but she felt confident in revealing what had happened. Winston had also given her special permission. She always waited to be alone when she spoke with Doctor Pennson, but she also seemed just a touch more relieved and relaxed after one of their conversations.

            "Yes. Our conversations seem to be helping," she confirmed. Jaime leaned over the bed, and bent down.

            "Good. Sorry love, but I gotta' go. Just... you have any trouble, you tell us, alright? I'll turn that ship around m'self, an' come back, yeah?" he said. It dawned on him that the mission would be the first time he'd left her side for more than a couple hours since she came to his rescue. He knew she'd be safe. Angela and Winston were staying behind after all, but it still hurt a touch to actually have to leave.

            "Of course. I love you," she said, and brushed her lips against his. He ran his thumb across her cheek.

            "Love ya, too." He grabbed his canvas bag from the chair it was slung across, and left the room with a wave goodbye.

            Jaime waited down in the cargo hold for most of the trip. Hog had nodded off, and Pipsqueak and Lució were busy playing a game on their Lil-boys. The other members were too busy kissing Morrison's ass, so he decided to seclude himself in the cargo hold where he could work on some of his sketches in peace. He wanted to add some color to the one he'd done up of Angela (in which she sat at her desk in her office). He heard somebody come down the steps. Jesse, perhaps, or maybe Zarya?

            "Hey. Lighting's a bit better up top, don't you think?" Morrison greeted. Jaime looked up from his sketchbook, and laid his pencil down.

            "Yeah, I guess. Like bein' down here sometimes, though. When I need somewhere quiet, y'know?" Jaime replied. Morrison sat down on top of one of the crates, and propped his feet up on another. He leaned back against the wall.

            "Yeah, suffice to say I can get behind that... how's your friend doin'? The one in the infirmary?" Jack asked. Jaime was caught off guard by the question, but he supposed it wasn't a complete surprise. After all, that was how he and Jack had met. It was really the only icebreaker he had. The two hadn't really spoken to each other beyond their first meeting on the prison grounds.

            "Oh, um... better. Angela said she's healin' pretty quick. Gonna' make a full recovery. Just takes time," he answered. He wasn't sure if he should ask his new superior a question or not, so he ended up keeping his mouth shut.

            "Good to hear. Is what Winston told me true? You and the big guy are signing on permanently in a few days?" Jack inquired. Jaime merely nodded. He didn't like that Winston had talked about him behind his back, but it seemed like business-oriented details more than anything else, so he forgave the ape.

            "Interesting choice, considering the things I read in your personnel file. Most people don’t move past that... I won’t lie, though. Hard to turn down a bounty like that," Jack mused. Jaime suddenly felt cornered. He began to tense up.

            "Relax. Done with bounty-hunting. I've put those days behind me. And from what I've gathered, you've put yours behind you, too," Jack said, keeping his voice calm. Jaime shrugged and went back to sketching. He could probably draw and talk, if Morrison was feeling so keen.

            "Why're you two coming out on this one? It's voluntary. Figured you probably wouldn't want to go," his superior prodded. Jaime started filling in Angela's hair.

            "My darl calls it closure, I guess. Hog does whatever I do most days," he stated. Morrison pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and plucked one out of the box. He popped it in his mouth, and reached for his matches. The match was quickly struck.

            "Don't tell Ana. She's tryin' to get me to quit," Jack ordered with partially pursed lips.

            "Wouldn't recommend that, mate. Least, not while yer sittin' on my case a mines," Jaime warned. Jack blew the match out, and returned the cigarette to its pack. He gave a heavy chuckle.

            "Guess I'm a bit rusty. Forget about stuff like this," he said while tapping the crate underneath him.

            "Jack? Sorry t'bug ya, love! But we need ya back up top!" Lena cut in over the intercom. Jack huffed a heavy sigh, and stood back up. He appraised Jaime for a moment.

            "Well, kid, I hope you find the closure that you need. See you up top," he said, and head back the way he came. _Not bloody likely, 'less those three are still there..._

            The flight there didn't feel that long at all to Jaime. The last time he'd flown out seemed to take forever. Of course, flights always seemed long when someone's life was on the line. Upon landing, he grabbed his grenade launcher, and followed behind the team. He hardly recognized the prison without the fighting and chaos that took place only a few days ago. Jack took the lead, and looked at the layout courtesy of blueprints on a tablet.

            "Place is massive. Could be here all day and night if we stick together. Everyone, pair up, pick a spot, and go check it out. Be careful though. Could be a few rogue agents skulking around. May have left traps, too," he ordered. Jaime nudged Hog, and tilted his head. He knew exactly where he wanted to go. There was just one problem, though... he didn't remember how the fuck to get there.

            "Fuck... think we're lost..." he grumbled while scratching his head.

            "Y'don't say..." Hog grumbled back. Neither one had been fully coherent the last time around. He just remembered that they had been in the lower level, and east(ish). Hog continued to follow Jaime, as his memory was equally as useless. Jaime stopped suddenly, and sniffed around him. A familiar scent wound its way into his nose.

            "I smell it, mate. Compounds. Heady stuff!" he grinned.

            "Ya got a lifetime supply a grenades strapped to ya," Hog pointed out. Jaime shook his head no.

            "No... these're different. Don't smell like my work. Smells professional. Military grade. Talon wired this place t'blow!" he grinned again. The average person would have been terrified at that realization, but when had he ever been merely average? His eyes scanned the corridor they had turned down. In the dim light around him, he saw them; the lines that connected it all. He nudged Hog again, and the pair started to follow their new path.

            "Sloppy work. Who th'fuck laid this line down? Ain't exactly subtle. Well... to a professional eye, anyways… Quit makin’ that face! I’m a professional, an’ you know it! …I can smell it though. We're gettin' close. An' if it's wired up like this... gotta' be more... Wait! There!" Jaime mumbled, and looked up. He pointed at what appeared to be an office. He vaguely remembered it from their escape. The door was only partially open, but appeared to be stuck. Hog shoved it back with little effort, and Jaime stepped in. 

            There wasn't much left to the room; a couple desks, a chair, a filing cabinet, and a few stray office supplies. The wires trailed to the back side of one of the desks, where a panel had been hastily screwed back on improperly. Jaime pointed, and Hog wrenched the panel off. A wicked grin lit his face up and he reached over to activate his earpiece.

            "I knew there was a reason y'brought me along! Alright, mates! Watch yer step out there! Found this place is wired up t'go boom!" he snickered.

            "You are far too amused at the prospect of a death trap," Pharah cut through. He heard Jack's low growl of contemplation.

            "What're we lookin' at, kid?" he replied. _Ain't a fuckin' kid!_

            "Well, ol' man, I'd say it's enough t'blow us sky-high. Wireless detonator. Means the person who wants this to pop wants control on when t'give it a go," he answered. Jack ignored the backhanded insult for the time-being.

            "You build them, so I'm going to assume you know how to dismantle them. You up for the challenge?" Jaime rolled his eyes.

            "Can you believe this guy?" Jaime muttered to Hog, who let out a rumbling chuckle of his own.

            "Yeah, mate. No sweat. Give me a minute," he replied, and dug out his snips from one of his pouches. It didn't take long at all, really. The transmitter was removed in nearly an instant. He could have practically done it in his sleep!

            "Disarmed. Yer all good," he announced, and slipped the transmitter into his pocket.

            "That was fast. You sure you did it right?" Morrison asked. _Thanks fer th'vote of confidence!_

            "No probs! Ratboy's a pro!" Hana chirped.

“Told ya’!” he shot back at Hog over his shoulder. It seemed to be answer enough for their new commander, and he clicked his earpiece back off. Jaime didn't see much left in the office, and decided to leave. He bumped the edge of the desk, and to his surprise, a projected computer screen popped up as if from nothing.

            "Hola!" Sombra greeted. Jaime stopped dead in his tracks and looked over. In an instant, he was crouched down looking at the screen.

            "Oh! It's YOU! And the pig? Thought you two snuffed it!" she continued, and her face held a bit of a sinister smile. _Oh, she wants t'play games? I'll play! An' this time, I'll win!_

            "Yeah, you ain't gettin' rid a' me that easily, y'lil shit!" he snickered back. Sombra rolled her eyes, and leaned back in her chair.

            "Guess not. Figured there would be some follow-up work, so I decided to keep an eye on this place. I get why your little pals came back, but I'm surprised. Why you two?" she asked. Jaime shrugged, playing it cool.

            "Closure," he answered. Sombra wrinkled her nose. He didn't care for the smug look on her face.

            "Heard Widow dropped your girl. Sorry about that. I liked her. She was cute. Could have been avoided, though. All you had to do was answer their questions in the first place,". Oh, that was the wrong thing to say to Jaime! He leaned down, and braced himself on the desk. He looked right at her through the screen.

            "That's right. Play ball with you lot, hm? Look how good that's been f'you! Part of a team that got its ass beat, an' ran off!" he hissed through a smile. The smile itself was more a bearing of teeth than anything else. There was one thing he could use to his advantage, though. For the time-being, they thought Satya was dead. That bought her temporary safety while he worked out a way to pay them back, and it gave him a reason to appear to get good and angry… not that he really needed a reason.

            "Yeah, I won't lie. That was pretty good. You guys sure got the drop on us there, which is why they asked me to return the favor!" Sombra snipped. _Oh, she didn't expect me taggin' along!_ Sombra triumphantly waved goodbye with one hand, and clicked a glowing key with her long fingernail. Only... nothing happened. She raised a puzzled eyebrow and clicked again. There was visible annoyance written across her face. She began growling in Spanish. Jaime reached into his pocket, and pulled out the transmitter. He leaned on one elbow, gave the piece a little shake, and sported the smuggest grin he could muster.

            "Turns out, I'm good at what I do, too! Who knew?" he chuckled, and tossed the device over his shoulder. Hog caught it, and crushed it with his bare hand. Sombra scowled, and Jaime's face transitioned from pride to something far more sinister. He went back to bracing his hands on the edge of the desk.

            "So here's how this is gonna' work, you little shit! See, you and yer new pals have REALLY pissed me off, and that ain't a smart thing t'do. Y'know why? Cause I got nothin' now, so I got nothin' t'lose! And that's a mighty dangerous thing, considerin' th'natrue of my work," he started. He pulled three very special grenades off his harness and sat them down in front of the screen. Sombra's eyes darted down.

            "So tell yer little friends I got a grenade with their name on it. Literally!" he seethed. He turned the first one to show the name Reaper painted in black.

            "He may be a ghost, but I bet he won't be floatin' away after this blast!" Jaime sneered. He turned the next one to blue letters that spelled out Widowmaker.

            "Oh, I'm gonna' ENJOY this one! Y'know the best way t'kill a spider? With goddamn fire!" He didn't care how sadistic he sounded at that moment. Damn, did it feel good!

            "Oh! But don't worry, love! Got one more here!" he said while sporting an impish smile, and turned the last grenade. Sombra stared at the third one, adorned with her name in purple.

“That supposed to scare me, pendejo?”. She had put on a brave enough face, but there was no mistaking the sweat starting to form on her brow, nor the nervous way her eyes darted back from him to the grenade and back.

      “Yup! Seems t’be workin’, too!” he said while tapping his own brow with a wink. He could feel an old ugly side of him bubbling up; the ugly side that led to impulsive actions, and far too many close-calls. He needed to stop, before it took over him again. Jaime stuck a middle finger at the monitor.

            "Hack this, bitch!" he snapped, and punched the tiny projector below the screen with his metal fist. The screen immediately vanished. He was surprised to find that his heart was racing, and he was short of breath. His hand shook with adrenaline. He let out a giddy little laugh that turned into a cackle.

            "How's... how's that fer closure, eh, Hog?" he said between breaths. Hog laid a heavy hand on his shoulder, but said nothing. Jaime waited for his breathing to return to normal, and he carefully clipped the grenades back in place on his harness.

            "C'mon. Time t'put this place behind ya'..." was all Hog said as he slowly turned him around. Jaime reluctantly agreed. They walked out into the corridor, and Jaime whipped his head in every direction.

            "Oi, Hog... You happen t'remember how t'get th'fuck outta' here?". 

**.           .           .           .           .**

 

 

            A week after they returned from the prison, things had temporarily reached a lull. The mission yielded nothing, unfortunately, though that didn't come as too much of a shock to anyone. He wouldn’t tell them about his little chat with Sombra. That had been far too personal, and wouldn’t have helped either way. While everyone around him seemed back to a normal routine, he was has having a difficult time feeling the same way.

            It was a nervous sort of day for Jaime. He had made his way to breakfast that morning when Winston approached him. Ever since Morrison arrived, the ape had slowly seemed to return to his former self. The hot tub that Satya had ordered for him also had a part to play in that, of course, but overall he was back to being relatively chipper and well-rested. The ape tapped him on the shoulder just as he was approaching the end of the hot cases.

            "Yeah, boss?" he asked, feeling a little worried. Winston merely smiled.

            "Just wanted to let you know I have the paperwork ready. I'd like for both you and Roadhog to come to my office at nine sharp, tomorrow. The sooner we wrap up, the sooner I can process everything for you, of course," Winston stated. Jaime had lost track of the days since his return from their last mission. It just felt so out of the blue, and yet, he knew it wasn't.

            "Yeah. Yeah, alright. Nine t'morrow. And after? How long ‘til...?," he started. He didn't feel the need to say it. Winston knew exactly what he was referring to.

            "Oh! Well, technically speaking, the moment I have Athena time-stamp it for us, so shortly after signing! Which means I better get back to preparations! I'll be seeing you tomorrow," Winston replied. He grabbed a banana from the fresh fruit case, gave a reassuring thumbs-up, and trotted back out. 

            "Ah! A big day for you two, tomorrow!" Ana greeted as she slid down the line with her own breakfast tray. Jaime grabbed the electric kettle and filled up a mug for Satya.

            "Yeah. Yeah. Big day..." he awkwardly replied. Ana had only ever spoken a handful of words to him. More often than not, she was merely checking in on Satya. Ana seemed to take a bit of an interest in her, and came to visit her a couple of times. The pair seemed to hit it off fairly well.

            "You know, I used to be a bounty hunter like Jack," she chided, and pulled a mug over for herself.

            "That right?" he grumbled, and handed the kettle to her. Yes, his days of running were officially coming to an end, but he still had a sore-spot from a few too many close-calls with people looking to cash in.

            "Oh yes. I remember when your bounty hit twenty-five million! Had half a mind to go after you, but then I came to my senses... I've watched you two here for a little while. I must say, you certainly aren't what I expected," she added. Ana slid the kettle back in its place. Jaime started walking towards the tables, and she followed along.

            "How's that?" he asked. Chatting with her distracted him from the odd anxiety building up within in him.

            "Well, for one, you two have fit in astoundingly well… considering your previous track record of working with others. I also have never met anyone from the Outback, much less anyone who managed to leave it altogether. You occasionally would hear stories of them in Australian news, but nothing beyond that," she started. _Where's she goin' with all this?_  

            "In a way, you may actually be able to inspire some changes. The rest of the world gave up on the Junkers, and yet, here you are. Look at how far you've come... Perhaps you can get people to once again see the inhabitants of the Outback as human beings, and not something to be ignored," she suggested.

            "Aw, I don't know 'bout that. I'm just a demolitions expert. Just a..." _Just a member of Overwatch._ He'd been with the team for a year, yet he realized he still mentally separated himself and Hog from them all. And after everything that happened? Why? He hoped that his upcoming appointment with Winston would change all of that. Jaime cleared his throat, and held up a mug of tea.

            "Anyways, better get her tea up to 'er. She's chompin' at th'bit t'get outta' there," Jaime said, swaying the conversation away from him. Ana gave a small chuckle.

            "Yes, we've shared a pot. Best not delay you any further. Besides, she and I made plans to have lunch together when she finally gets out. Send her my regards!" Ana said and waved goodbye before walking over to have a seat at Pharah's table. There was still a small bristle from Pharah, but the pair seemed to be adjusting to living around each other again. _S'pose it'd be rough if my mum came back from th'dead, though._

            After taking up her tea and breakfast, he brushed a kiss on her forehead and went to the workshop for a bit of some test-runs with Torb (the pair was working on a turret that fired grenades). What should have only lasted a couple hours ended up taking the whole day, as the pair grew excited of their successful results, and immediately wanted to find a way to make it more powerful and devastating. Without Satya there to keep them in check, all ideas were considered... including the ones that lead to unintentional property damage, and Morrison yelling at them from his new office window.

            Dinner was, once again, shared in the infirmary. Satya chatted excitedly (well, excited for her) to him as he shoveled in dinner, and chattered back between bites. It was becoming increasingly noticeable that she was suffering from cabin fever. She’d fidget in bed, or wring her hands together. Angela took recovery quite seriously, and refused to let her out of the med bay until she deemed it acceptable. There was no swaying the medic. So it came as quite a shock when Satya spoke the words he'd wanted to hear ever since she woke up from her surgery.

            "Angela is letting me out two days early! She wants to give me a final check up tomorrow morning, but then I should be free to go," she informed, and popped a bite of broccoli into her mouth. Jaime's eyes lit up at her words.

            "That's! That's amazin', love! We should celebrate!" he grinned. Satya smiled back, and he cleared his throat.

            "Got... got some good news, too. Goin' in at nine t'morrow to sign m'contract." Her smile was gentle, her eyes glowed, and she delicately laid her hand on top of his.

            "And that is certainly also a reason to celebrate," she agreed, "...I think you should know that Winston came to see me today, while you and Torb were... working." She smirked a touch towards the end. Word of workplace ridiculousness traveled fast enough in the watchpoint, but the sound of explosives tended to travel even faster.

            "Yeah?" he replied, genuinely curious. She nodded, and took a moment to work out how to say what apparently needed to be said.

            "We spoke about my own employment. With me no longer being an employee of Vishkar, my contract was, essentially, canceled, and I've been working freelance all this time, technically speaking. The UN wants to eventually get everyone to stay as permanent members as their own agreement terms come to an end. As I am currently viewed as a mercenary, mine would have to be the first after you and Hog," she explained. _She's gonna' do it. She's gonna’ sign on._

            He wasn't sure how to feel about her decision. On the one hand, he was still worried for her own safety and security, though he supposed that would weigh on him no matter what she chose to do. He also worried of what might happen if, a few years down the road, she'd come to regret her decision. On the other hand, he was pleased that she wanted to stay near him. What it really boiled down to was that he wanted to make sure she had thought it through. _Don’t be stupid, mate. She took th'time. She knows what she's doin'._ And so he waited for her to say the words he knew she would utter.

            "I'm planning to sign on. It is a worthy cause. Here, I can make a better world. I also have no family of which to speak of outside... but here, I do. Does that make sense?" she hesitantly asked. Jaime gave a snort.

            "Course it does. Ain't really surprised, t'be honest. " he grinned, though the smile felt a touch reluctant. Satya wouldn't be Satya if she didn't think in absolute ideals. She let out relaxed sigh, as though flushing the nervousness out of her mind.

            "Then we have even further reason to celebrate… I am not sure at what time I will be getting out tomorrow, but I'd imagine in time for lunch. Perhaps we can go into town? I wouldn't mind visiting one of the cafes with you. Perhaps Hog and Hana would like to join us? Anyone, really," she asked. Her face slowly lit up at the prospect of actually leaving the watchpoint, and breathing in fresh air. How could he say no?

            "Yeah, sure love! Sounds fun!" She continued on about how much she was looking forward to having a proper shower, and getting back to her routines. She looked down at herself in apparent disapproval, though to him she looked perfectly fine. Perhaps a bit dressed down in only a t-shirt and pajama pants that Hana let her borrow, but overall there was an excited glow about her. Her eyes darted down to her gauntlet.

            "And I'd very much to do a deep clean of this!" she muttered to herself. Jaime could see the dirt and grime that had accumulated within the grooves of her arm. It certainly was overdue for a proper cleaning.

            "I'll have to take it apart, looks like. Perhaps I can have Torb bring me my tools," she quietly said to herself. Jaime shrugged his shoulders.

            "I'll do it! Give it a nice cleanin’!" he offered. Satya seemed only the slightest bit surprised.

            "Oh! Thank you. I greatly appreciate the offer. My tool case for my gauntlet is in the middle drawer on the right. If you need them, Torb has a paper copy of the blueprints," she said, and slowly detached her arm at the shoulder. He took the arm, shoveled the last few bites of his food into his mouth, and waved goodbye.

            He wasn't sure why he was so eager to get back to the workshop and to tackle the project. Perhaps it was because it was something of hers. He still hadn't had the chance to examine it in its entirety, but knowing that he could elated him. He'd very much like to try shaping hardlight again. He buried himself in the task, and lost himself in his own thoughts.

            _Tomorrow. Tomorrow, it'll be over. I'll be worth a damn. That! That'll be some fucking closure!_ His angry words with Sombra really didn't make him feel much better. Nothing was actually finished, but it did feel amazing putting the fear of God into the devious little brat. Still, it really only seemed to open a new door for him. It wasn't happily ever after, but a transition to a new period in his life. _T'morrow's gonna' be th'real happy endin'._

He finished dismantling the gauntlet casing, and began dusting and cleaning. It didn't take very long to get it polished and gleaming. He took the hand pieces, cleared the finger smudges off the lens, and began reassembling the finger joints. Upon finishing, he stared at the smaller hand nestled in his palm. _Somethin’ else I gotta' do first, though._ Impulse took over. Well, not entirely impulse. He’d thought about it for a little while, and while he had intended to plan things out a touch more thoroughly, he suddenly felt like the clock was ticking. He got up from the table, and walked out. He was a man on a mission, and he nearly ran to his old room. The door slid open, and he looked around. _There it is!_ As he walked out of his former burrow, Hog stuck his head out into the corridor.

            "What're y'doin' here?" he rumbled, genuinely curious. Jaime kept walking past his friend.

            "Grabbin' somethin'!" Jaime quickly rushed. Scratching his head, Hog didn't seem satisfied with his answer.

            "Why y'got that bloody crown with ya'?" his friend asked. Jaime just kept moving.

            "You'll see!" he answered without turning back.

**.           .           .           .           .**

 

            Satya was surprised to find that Jaime never came back after dinner. She was slightly confused, and even a touch hurt at first, but she brushed it off. After all, he’d spent nearly all of his time with her, and that was asking quite a lot. She assumed her arm was proving to be more difficult to disassemble than he initially thought. _No, Jaime can figure that out. He has the correct tools, access to design notes, and he is more than capable._ Torb had stopped by to bring her dessert and to chat. He had mentioned that Jaime was still in the workshop, last he checked.

            "Maybe Twiggy is havin' cold feet about signin' on t'morrow. Er, cold foot, I suppose," Torb joked. Satya shook her head no, and assumed Jaime had either grown distracted with another project, or wanted to study the detailing of her arm. She finally grew too tired to stay up and wait for him, so she went to bed. _He'll come to bed when he is ready for sleep._ The next morning, his bed was still empty, and neatly made. That meant he never came back at all. She looked at her clock. It read that it was ten after nine. _Perhaps Torb was right. Maybe he was nervous, and couldn't sleep._ It honestly wouldn't surprise her. He always seemed agitated when he spoke about it. Her attention broke when Angela came in.

            "Ah, my dear! You are awake! Perfect!" she chirped. She came up to her bed, and pulled out her stethoscope.

            "I'm sure you're ready to get out of here! Breathe in, please?" Angela requested. Satya did as she was instructed as the doctor moved the disc around her chest. Not wanting to damage Angela’s hearing, she waited until the scope was pulled away.

            "Yes. I am thankful of the care you took of me, but I am quite ready to get back to my own room, and eventually get back to work,”. Angela chuckled.

            "One of these days, I'd like you to take a holiday that isn't the result of a near-death experience! And if I am to treat someone, I’d rather it not be either you or Junkrat for once!" she joked. Satya quietly laughed as well.

            "Someday, Angela. I promise." The doctor motioned for her to lift her shirt so she could inspect the wound. As was the case with most of Angela's patients, the bullet hole was barely visible. The skilled medic promised her that even that would eventually fade. She did a few more tests, but overall seemed quite pleased with the results.

            "That is it, Sym! You passed your inspection! I clear you to leave the medical wing!" Angela cheerfully piped. Satya slid out of the bed, and grabbed the keycard. She looked over the bed, where a small collection of her personal items lay.

            "I see you are without your arm. You can come back for everything later, if that's more convenient," her friend said. _I guess I have no choice. I hope he has my arm ready for lunch._ Satya agreed, and left the room. Her own room felt so welcome. She couldn't wait to sleep in a more comfortable bed that also had room for her to move. Plus, there was the bonus of once again having Jaime to sleep next to. She then remembered that Jaime was probably finishing up his paperwork with Winston, and she decided that she wanted to look nice for their celebratory lunch. She took out her tablet, and messaged Hana.

            **Would you be interested in joining Jaime and I for lunch? We wanted to go to one of the cafes in town.** She typed. A moment later, Hana returned her message.

            **Yeah! Ratboy mentioned it at breakfast! Told me and Hog to meet you two down in the mess hall at 12:30.** She looked over Hana's response, and raised an eyebrow. _Well, I suppose I'll see him at lunch then. Perhaps he worried the paperwork would take a while to go through._

            She had strict instructions from Angela that she was not to return to the workshop, or start exercising for at least another week. Her friend didn't want her overstressing herself, nor overwork her body so soon. Satya always made sure to follow Angela's orders, and settled with taking her time in the shower, and tidying and freshening her room while taking a moment to appreciate being in her own private space again. Everyone else was too busy working, and she didn't want to interrupt them. When she ran out of things to do, she went outside to walk the grounds. She knew they'd be leaving for the cafe soon enough, but she needed to breathe some actual fresh air, and feel the sun and the wind on her skin.

            Off in the distance, she could hear the ocean waves. The gulls cried above. The sun blazed brightly on the late spring morning. _Over a year now._ She'd been there for over a year, and hardly realized it. Time simply flew. And yet, so much in her life had changed. She moved thousands of miles away, and completely changed her life. Her time under Vishkar's thumb was behind her. Winston managed to unfreeze her accounts, and transfer them under her direct control. She had a new career that she enjoyed. She had made more than just friends. For the first time in her life, she had a family; a family that she adored. A family that she knew she would always fight for, and they in turn would fight for her. _And together, we can build a better world... as soon as I get my arm back, of course!_ She made her way back into the watchpoint, and noticed the meeting time draw near. She started towards the mess hall.

            It seemed like an odd spot to meet, considering they weren't actually going to eat there. Morrison gave her a quick nod and wave, which still felt a little awkward. He'd come into the infirmary with Ana to introduce themselves, and while Ana had returned a couple times to chat with her and keep her company, she still knew very little about either one of them. The mess hall was packed as everyone was at different stages of their meals. Winston sat with Lena, and he also waved hello. _If he's here, then their meeting with him had to have finished. Where are they?_

            "Hey girl! Glad to see you up and dressed! Where's your arm?" Hana greeted after jogging up to her. Hog came lumbering in behind her. Satya was a bit confused that Hog was there, yet there was still no sign of Jaime.

            "Oh, um, Jaime has it. He took it last night to give it a good cleaning. I’m still waiting for him to bring it back, actually," she replied. As if he could hear his name, the door to the mess hall slid open, and she could hear his usual stomp-click. He had a long metal case hanging from his hand; the same case Torb had used to transport the gauntlet to his home. She didn't know why he had boxed it up. Perhaps he wanted to keep it pristine after an extensive polish? He stopped very abruptly in front of her.

            "Sorry 'bout the wait, love. Had t'make an adjustment!" he grinned. She raised an eyebrow at his remark. What did he mean by adjustment? The gauntlet fit and functioned perfectly fine for her. He held the case out to her, and she clicked the locks. Slowly, she lifted the lid. It seemed normal enough. He had done a decent job ridding it of grime, and she quickly attached it back in place.

            "Thank you, Jaime, it looks very clean. I appreciate your work," she stated, though still felt confused. Surely he didn't spend all that time just cleaning it, right?

            "OH MY GAWD!" Hana shrieked. Satya whipped her head over to her friend, who's eyes bulged, and mouth hung agape. Hana's finger darted between her and Jaime. _What on earth?_ Her brain came to full shutdown when she saw what Hana was pointing and shouting at.

            The case had been set aside, his face was lit up with nervous excitement, and Jamison Fawkes was bent down on one knee! She then looked down at the hand of her gauntlet, where a gold band and diamond had been inlaid around her ring finger. Her breath caught, and she was at a loss for words. She realized she was not the only one. Hog stiffened in shock. Hana was scrambling to pull her phone out of her purse. The other team mates around her were gawking and surprisingly silent. Or perhaps her mind suddenly tuned them out altogether. Amber eyes stared up at her.

            "Made... made it official this mornin'. Wanted t'ask ya' fer a while now, but wanted t'wait till I was cleared. What... what do ya' say, Satya? Y'wanna'... wanna'...?"

            "Yes!" she breathlessly rushed. How could she answer any differently? He’d stood by her through so much, and after all that had happened, she knew she had (and would continue) to do the same for him. She crouched down to wrap her arms around him. She buried her face in his neck, and she heard him let out a small strained chuckle in genuine relief and joy. 

            Later, she'd admit to herself that the mess hall was not the most visually romantic setting for such a question, but in the end, it didn't really matter. It was the easiest way to gather the team while leaving it all a surprise, and the fact that he wanted them all to be there to witness made it all considerably more poignant. The people around them quickly erupted into cheers and applause. Hana had finally managed to pull had her phone out, and was snapping pictures as quickly as she could.

            "Atta' boy, Rat!" Jesse hooted in delight.

            "Oh, that's so beautiful!" Mei blubbered, and Zarya was much in the same state. Torb was a sobbing mess. To Satya's surprise, Hog came over and gave Hana a nudge. 

            "Ugh! Yeah, I know!" Hana grumbled, pulled a bill out of her pocket, and handed it to Hog.

**Epilogue**

"Oh goodness, we're going to be late!" Satya rushed as she quickly sat up in bed. Jaime let out a weak snarl in annoyance. It was too damn early, too damn bright, and he was too damn comfortable.

            "Yeah, late fer bein' early," he groaned. She leaned over in bed and drew the curtains back, letting even more sunlight pour in. He groaned some more, and plopped her pillow on his face. Satya slid out from under the sheets, grabbed her robe, and started for the hotel bathroom.

            "Don't gotta' be there till noon," he reminded. He heard the water in the shower turn on.

            "Yes, and this is New York! Do you know how long it will take to get there?" she reminded. He gave a "hmmmfff", and didn't budge.

            "You know... there is room in this shower stall for two..." she teased. That woke him up! He stumbled after her, and hopped into the glassed-in stall.

            Forty-five minutes later, the hot water finally started to run out, and they hastily finished getting ready for the day. A quick breakfast was consumed, and they scrambled to get ahold of a cab. They still managed to get to their designated meeting place ten minutes early. The rest of the team trickled in, and began to wait for the cue to leave their green room.

            "Suits! Fuckin' hate suits!" Jaime muttered under his breath as he tried to loosen the tie.

            "It is not a suit. It is a uniform," Satya reminded.

            "Cleverly disguised as a suit," Hana cut in.

            "See!" Jaime said, pointing at his friend.

            "Don't worry, dude. I got you! I look like a grandma in this thing!" Hana whined, while tugging at the blue lapel, and fidgeting in the unflattering slacks.

            "Hana, you are not helping," Satya snipped.

            "You can take the damn thing off when we're done!" Hog reminded Jaime.

            "Would you all knock it off already! We're about to be introduced on stage!" Morrison snapped. The team's collective muttering came to an abrupt stop, and the room grew silent.

            "... Okay, dad!" Lena snickered, and the team bust a collective gut. Morrison buried his face in his palm.

            "I swear to god, nothing ever changes around here," he growled. Ana   turned her eye on the team, and everyone froze. _So that's where Pharah gets it from!_  Morrison gave the team a quick nod, and led the crew single-file down the hall, through the wings of the auditorium, and out onto the stage. 

            _Just like th' rehearsal. Walk out, stand in m'spot. Say the words when the bloke stands in fronta' me. Say th'other words at the same time. Then I'm done._ That was all he had to do. Simple enough. He came to his spot with the little x on the floor. He turned to face the audience with Hog on his right, and Satya on his left. _Oh! Oh wow! That's! That's a lotta' people!_ He'd been the center of attention in front of a crowd before, though that had been at his trial. There was easily triple the amount of people seated before him. He scanned the crowd for the Australian ambassadors, but didn't see them.

            He suddenly felt that he existed outside of his body; that he was merely spectating from the stage. Music played. He barely noticed. A couple of speakers came up to the podium in front of them, and gave some small speeches. He knew he wouldn't be able to remember a word of it. He was anxious, and could feel sweat forming on his brow. He felt the tiniest nudge against his pinkie, and his eyes flicked down. It was, of course, Satya. She caught his eye for only a second, but it was enough. He tried to stand a little straighter.

            After the applause following the second speaker died down, the actual ceremony commenced. A man started at one end of the line, and held out the book. He couldn't for the life of him remember what was so special about it, but for once he would do what he was told. His eyes darted to each of his team as they laid their hand on the book, and raised the other one. Then they spoke the words he was told he'd also have to repeat. 

            Hog went first. He watched the ambassador step in front of his massive friend. The poor ambassador had to practically hold the book over his head. Hog placed a heavy hand on top, and raised the other. Jaime had always been used to Hog's mask, but for the first time, it seemed so out of place. Of course, he could say the same for himself on a whole. He bit the inside of his cheek. _No. None a that._ _We're here now. That's all that matters, right?_

            And then the man with the book stepped in front of him. He fought every urge to burst into a fit of nervous giggles. _This is fuckin' ridiculous. Fuckin'... I'm a goddamn Junker!_ And yet, that did not stop the man from lifting the book up. Jaime gulped. With a trembling hand, he laid it on the cover, and raised the other.

            "I, name..."

            "I, Jamison Fawkes,"

            "From this day forward,"

            "From this day forward,"

            "Pledge to uphold the Peacekeeper's Charter,"

            "Pledge to uphold the Peacekeeper's Charter,". _Christ, bet no one's ever expected me t'stay that!_

            "As an agent of Overwatch."

            "As an agent of Overwatch."

            "On this, I swear,". Jaime gulped again. _Here goes nothin'..._

            "On this, I swear," he managed to stammer. He could hear his voice try to hit a higher octave, but he managed to keep that suppressed. That was it. The words were said, and the man with the book moved over to Satya. He heard her utter every word, though her voice seemed far calmer than his. 

            He'd spent countless hours simply watching her, and discovering her nuances. While most people would deem her unreadable, he somehow had no trouble at all. Her faces were always subtle; small smiles at the corner of her mouth, a fiery gaze, a serene arcing of her eyebrows. At that moment, however, there was something unmistakable in her eyes. It was pride, and it began to dawn on him that the new sensation he was feeling was the very same. He was... proud!

            The audience looked on as each member repeated their vow. Hana's voice squeaked over the speakers, and when she finished, he could hear her give the tiniest sigh of relief. Hana was no stranger to the spotlight, but she had admitted to him that all the "grown up professional stuff" was rather intimidating. Eventually, the ambassador stood in front of Winston, and the ape puffed his chest out as he gladly began to say the words. At a distance, he could just make out glassy eyes staring back through rectangular frames. All of Winston's hard work and dedication had paid off, and it was a momentous occasion for him. The ambassador turned, and looked down the line.

            "Do you vow to rise to the call for aid whenever and wherever it is needed?" the man's voice rang out. The proud feeling nestled in Jaime's chest began to grow. _Ain't in Junkertown. Ain't stealin'. Ain't runnin'. Not anymore. Got m'job. Got m'mates. Hell even got m'self a fiancé!_

            "We do so vow," the team repeated in unison. _Ain't just Junkrat no more._

"Then I hereby officially revoke the Petras Act, and declare Overwatch fully reinstated!" The audience began to stand and applaud, and he never thought his chest could expand any further. He quickly glanced over from one side to the other. Hog, his friend who’d followed him out of Junkertown stood on his right. Satya gazed upon the audience as she stood on his left. What more did a man need?

            _I better than that…_

            _I'm Jamison Fawkes..._

_...and I'm a goddamn hero!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all she wrote! Thank you, friends, for taking the time to read this. It truly means a lot. This whole story started as more of a writing experiment, and boy did it spiral out of control in the best way possible! If you enjoyed reading this, then keep your eye out for some future drabbles! Until then!  
> -See you, space cowboys!


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